Ebon Hatred
by Chemical Ghost
Summary: Post ESB AU. Leia knows. And she hates them both. She will stop at nothing to take revenge. She will be the death of him. Complete.
1. Part I

Disclaimer: **I DO NOT OWN SW. **Can I make it any clearer than that?

A/N: Yes, another fic from me. Joy. (sarcasm)

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**Part I**

Luke's POV

It's either very late at night or the early morning hours, but I can't be sure which. Either way, any normal, sane person would most likely be found sleeping. I was beginning to doubt my own sanity, and I knew for a fact that I was far from normal, unless you called related to Darth Vader normal. Instead, I was sprawled on the floor of my cabin. I hadn't slept in days, but I had no desire whatsoever to face him again. He was everywhere, even in my dreams – nightmares, I corrected myself.

It had been less than a week since the duel. Less than a week since I lost everything. I had lost myself. My dreams – gone. My greatest ambition had been to become like my father in every way. Oh, the irony. I had often wished he were still alive. If only I'd known. My ideals – gone, proven to be worthless lies. My soul – gone. There was nothing more to say.

It was as if someone had flipped a switch inside of me, the one switch that triggered the self-destruct. Not someone – Vader. Vader had flipped the switch, as carelessly as one would turn on the light. Except this switch turned on the darkness. I had died on Bespin, murdered by my father's killer. _No, I am your father._

Even days later, the words still sent a wave of shock through my mind. For the thousandth time, I wondered if this was nothing but a twisted creation of my own mind. Perhaps this was an ongoing nightmare, and I would wake any minute.

_No, I am your father. _My mind tried to deny it as it's done countless times before. _Search your feelings. You know it to be true. _Deep down, I knew Vader hadn't lied. I could not explain it. All I knew was that it was the truth. The truth was harsh, it stung and burned after a lifetime of sweet lies. It fills me with a dark nothingness that seems to taint me, engulfing the core of my being. I tried to force the darkness out, but my efforts were to no avail. _Do or do not, there is no try. _I gave up trying. As much as I fought against it, I slowly drifted off to sleep.

Leia's POV

I threw the datapad down onto the desk and decided to attempt sleep. I couldn't help Han if I died of exhaustion. I threw off my clothes and crashed onto my cot.

_I am falling…again. It is some sort of dark, vertical tunnel, except there are no discernable walls. There is only an eternal darkness around me. It is beneath me, and I fall into its gaping maw. There is a patch of pure white light above me, but it rises further with each breath I take. I try to fly, to escape the abyss, but I cannot, for I have no wings. I had fallen before, but I had always had wings. Now they are gone, leaving only their skeletal white frames. So I helplessly stand by and feel myself fall into the shadows. An eternity passes, until I hit the bottom. Strange, as I feel no pain._

_I open my eyes and explore my surroundings. Instead of empty space, I am now in a room, dimly lit, the light oddly reddish. It is filled with smoke of some sort. The fumes hurt my eyes. With a start, I recognize it as the Carbon-freezing chamber on Bespin. What am I doing here? That was days ago…Tears threaten to force their way out of my eyes. At the far end of the chamber stands Darth Vader, my arch-nemesis. My hatred burns white-hot, and I want nothing more than his death._

_I holster my blaster – what blaster? – and stride toward the platform above that he stands on. I will have my vengeance._

"_The Force is with you, young Skywalker. But you are not a Jedi yet." Skywalker?…Jedi? This makes no sense. I must have misheard, or else I am bordering on insanity. I cannot formulate a coherent answer. Instead, I ignite my lightsaber. What lightsaber? I look down at it. Then I realize that somehow, Luke's lightsaber has come into my possession. What next? _

_While I'd been thinking, Vader and I had begun to fight. I lunge at him, and he blocks me without effort. Blue clashes against red as I attack him once again. I struggle to gain the offensive, which I eventually do._

"_You have learned much, Young One," He says, though I have no idea of what he is referring to. All I know is that I will give him hell if it's the last thing I do._

"_You'll find I'm full of surprises," I grit out. My voice sounds different than I am used to. In fact, to say so would be an understatement. It's a man's voice…Luke's. I turn to look at my body, only to realize that is it not my own. This is getting weirder by the minute…first I am back at Bespin, now I am trapped in Luke's body…and dueling Vader. Somehow I doubt that this will be a pleasant experience._

_In two swift moves, Vader sends my – (his?) – saber flying out of my grip. I find myself tumbling down the stairs, and this time I do feel the effects of my rough landing. Out of nowhere, he swoops down on me like a dark bird. I roll out of his way as he lands._

"_Your destiny lies with me, Skywalker. Obi-wan knew this to be true," Vader rumbles. Now that I know what is going on, it makes sense. I must be reliving Bespin through Luke's eyes…Reliving? Did this already happen? Then why am I here?_

"_No," I say. Whatever Vader wants, he isn't going to get it from me. I cautiously move away. Without warning, he launches himself at me. I struggle to maintain my balance but end up falling into the pit below. I frantically look around, searching for an escape, but find none. In a last-ditch effort I propel myself upward, and strangely enough, I now hang from some hoses dangling from the ceiling._

"_Impressive…most impressive." Damn right it was impressive. I would show him what I'm made of. I jump down and spray the freezing steam in Vader's face, if you could call it that. I use that split second to try and figure something out. Too late…my lightsaber somehow finds its way back to my hand, and our fight resumes._

"_Obi-wan has taught you well. You have controlled your fear…now release your anger." I would do so, but isn't it exactly what Vader wants? Why would he want that? Not surprisingly, Vader now has the upper hand. His blows are heavy; my knees nearly give out on impact. In spite of Vader wanting me to release my anger, I channel it into my own blows. I slash at him aggressively, driving him back. I flip over him, and attack Vader anew, this time sending him flying over the edge. He is nowhere to be seen. Panting hard, I deactivate the saber and lower myself into the pit, which leads to some sort of tunnel._

_It leads to another room with a large, circular window. It is filled with machines I cannot name. Vader comes out of nowhere and we resume the duel. Machines detach themselves from their rightful places and are thrown at me. I do my best to deflect them. A large piece of machinery crashes into the window, shattering it. Before I can begin to make a move, another slams into me, and I fall through the broken window._

_There is nothing to catch my fall. Is this the end? No, it isn't. Otherwise I would still be falling. I have caught onto the edge of a gantry. I haul myself up onto the gantry. Below, I can see an endless shaft. _That was too close for comfort_, I think. I make my way to the room from which the gantry protrudes. A rush of adrenaline floods me as Vader materializes out of nowhere. _

_He throws himself at me, forcing me back towards the gantry. I fight to absorb his increasingly heavy blows. He is driving be back, and I know that the gantry has an end. Unless I somehow fight him off, I will fall to my death._

_Vader is simply too strong, approximately ten times more so than me. I fall to the ground, Vader's lightsaber at my throat._

"_You are beaten. It is useless to resist. Don't let yourself be destroyed as Obi-wan did." I almost snort at that. Does he really expect me to give up just like that? Sure, I'm going to die, but not without a proper fight. I refrain from telling him to go to hell. Instead I right myself and viciously stab at him. I smirk as the blade nicks his shoulder._

_My smile fades as he attacks anew as if nothing had happened. I am in for it now. Vader seems furious, like a feral beast. His saber is alive with motion. He slashes off an instrument complex. As it blows away, I reflexively turn my attention toward it, only for a split second, but a split second is all it takes._

_Pain. All I know is intense, burning agony blossoming in my forearm, spreading through my whole arm. For a few seconds, my vision turns dim and hazy, but I can still make out the skull-like design of Vader's mask above me. I seem to have a distorted perception of time, as if each second ticks away twice as slowly as usual. I somehow find myself at the very end of the gantry. It is the only thing between me and certain death._

_Vader is still there. So it's death either way. I dimly wonder which way is a better death, being cut down by my sworn enemy or dying in freefall. Vader speaks._

"_There is no escape," _That's kind of obvious, ain't it? _I mentally spit at him. _

"_Don't make me destroy you," he continues, my thought unheard. "You do not yet realize your importance. You have only begun to discover your power. Join me and I will complete your training. With our combined strength, we can end this destructive conflict and bring order to the galaxy." I nearly snort in derision. _End this destructive conflict, Vader? No offense meant, but you are the embodiment of destruction. Bring order? The Emperor has already brought your kind of order to the galaxy. Don't make me laugh…_Although I am certainly not laughing. _Oh Force, what have I gotten myself into? Sith, I'm going to die…

"_I'll never join you," I bite out, spearing him with the meanest glare I can muster._

"_If only you knew the power of the Dark Side. Obi-wan never told you what happened to your father." Never told me? Of course he never told me, I already knew. I knew the moment I saw Alderaan be destroyed. How dare he speak of him? Fiery rage rises in me._

"_He told me enough! He told me you killed him." The words come out on their own accord. Wasn't Tarkin the one who ordered the shot to be fired? Either way, he did nothing to prevent Alderaan's destruction. The briefest of pauses follows, and he utters the very last combination of words I expect._

"_No, I am your father." I hear only a random string of words. A moment later I register their meaning. I feel my eyes bulge and the blood drain from my face. This can't be true; this must be a long, dragged-out nightmare. Yes, a nightmare. No…it can't be. It's too painfully real._

"_No…no, that's not true. That's impossible!" Tears of anger fill my eyes. I try to hold them in, failing. It can't be true. It just can't. Me, Leia Organa, Vader's spawn? No, it must be a sick, twisted creation of my own mind. This isn't real._

"_Search your feelings. You know it to be true." And I do, but I find nothing but conflicted, jumbled up emotions. I scream my denial._

"_Luke, you can destroy the Emperor. He has foreseen this. It is your destiny. Join me, and we can rule the galaxy as father and son. Come with me. It is the only way," He says. Luke? Son? With a start, I remember that this isn't my body. But then, is Vader _my _father or his? In spite of myself, I fervently hope it is the latter. But what if it isn't? Either way, I know I would choose death over joining Vader. I look down. The shaft is deeper than anything I've ever seen, save for space itself. I will die before I hit the bottom, for there is no bottom. I let go and let myself fall._

I woke up drenched in sweat and on the floor rather than on my cot, breathing hard, almost to the point of hyperventilation. My mind seemed to be fused to another. Almost fearfully, I broke the contact. _What was that?_ I sighed in relief. As I'd thought, it was only a nightmare. Still, it had been so vivid; it could scarcely be called a dream.

_A vision, maybe_…It was possible, but wouldn't that make said events real? No, that was absurd, there was no way Vader could be my father. Bail Organa was. But that hadn't been my body, I remembered. Then…could it be possible that it was what had actually happened at Bespin? Then Vader was Luke's father…

Somehow, I knew it was so. I could not explain it, it just sounded right. A wave of hatred plowed into me, dragging me under. Had he known all along? Had he been faking his idolizing his nonexistent father all along? Was he an imperial spy? No, it couldn't be…Otherwise he most certainly wouldn't have fired the shot that destroyed the Death Star. Yes, the vision was true. It wasn't his fault who his father was. Hell, he had only found out days ago.

I winced in sympathy. _That must have been a rude awakening_… Then my sympathy was smothered by the blinding hate. That didn't make him any less Vader's offspring. I loathed them, both of them. From that moment I knew that I could finally take revenge against Vader, if only indirectly. Luke Skywalker had to die.

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	2. Part II

Disclaimer: I do not own SW, or any of the characters. Too bad.

**Strider: **Thank you. Here's more for ya.

**Relyan:**Glad you like it so far. Yes, I know the dream was dragged out, but...aw, what the hell. I know that part sucked, lol, but it was the best I could do. As for Leia finding out, she won't for a long time.

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**Part II**

Luke's POV

I had not seen Leia for over a day. Not a glimpse. Oh, she was still there, I knew she hadn't left. Where could she have gone, anyway? She had nowhere to go. The last time I'd seen her, she'd brushed me away - I suppose she wanted some time alone. That is understandable, of course. Lately, she had had it much worse than me, what with losing Han and all. I'm still numb with shock. At times I find myself wondering where he is, only to remember that he is gone. I never thought I'd miss him as much as I do.

No, he isn't gone, at least not forever. We don't speak of him, as if he had died in battle. Leia mourns him, even though we'll find him again. I only hope that we do so soon, for Leia's sake. I try to tell her to hang on, that this will soon be over, only I'm not so sure myself. We have to be strong, even though there are times when all we want to do is stop breathing – just lie down and die. My strength fades. I only hope the same cannot be said for hers. I heighten my pace as I walk down the corridors. The walls are such a pure white that they hurt my eyes. There are no words to describe how dirty I feel against their pristine color.

Wedge had said that High Command wanted a word with me, but nothing could have prepared me for this. For a second or two I gaped at the officer in disbelief, before regaining my composure and asking him to repeat what he'd said. Bemused, the kid stared at me. He wasn't much older than I was when I joined the Alliance and seemed to be the type that put me on a pedestal and regarded me as some kind of deity. I still hadn't figured out why anyone would want to worship a cold-blooded mass murderer.

"Commander Skywalker, you are under arrest on the charge of treason. You are to come with me." My blood froze, my heart pounded, my mind raced. No, they didn't know... There was no way they could have found out. This had to be something else, a mistake that could be straightened out. I struggled to keep my breathing regular. I stared at nothing then averted my gaze toward him.

"Wait a second—"

"Come with me." Before I could protest, I heard the sound of a blaster being loaded behind me. Two more guys, whom I had previously not noticed, stepped forward. They were both somewhere in their thirties, armed and the tough-looking, no-nonsense type of people. Obviously they had no qualms about killing the rebellion's poster boy. I followed them as they led me to a holding cell of some sort. I could have taken the three of them down easily, but I was in the middle of a rebel cruiser. Where could I have run?

I sat there in the dark for what seemed like hours. Usually I could have been found doing something to kill time and to keep myself from thinking too much. I would spend hours tinkering with my X-Wing, but here I found myself with nothing to do _but _think.

My thoughts always ended up straying toward the same subject – what was going on? What had made them think I was a traitor? It had to be something I'd done. Was it my going AWOL after Hoth? Yes, that had to be it… I found myself arguing with myself. No, if that was the case, the charge would have been desertion.

The only answer I could come up with was what that spiteful little voice at the back of my head kept repeating. _It's because of who you are. It's because you are the son of Vader. You _are _Vader. _I tried to shut it out, to shut it up. I couldn't think of this now. I stowed it somewhere in the depths of my mind.

No, that just wasn't logical. There was no way in hell they could possibly know. I was getting paranoid. Maybe I was losing my sanity…This was getting ridiculous. I was attaching everything to the fact that he was my father – which was probably not even true, or so I told myself. It was most likely yet another ploy of his. I wouldn't have put it past him. Obviously this was coincidental. It was only natural that I would immediately associate it with what Vader had said. Still, once I thought of it, it would stay on my mind for hours. Stars, how I wished Leia was here.

Ironically, she walked into the cell only seconds after I'd finished that thought. I got up and came forward to meet her. She wasn't smiling, nor did she speak. I broke the silence.

"Umm…Hi, Leia…" I blushed like the stupid farmboy who died on Bespin. Leia frowned harder and her eyes grew steely. Obviously she wasn't in the mood for conversation. She spoke, her voice a low growl, a tone reserved for people she despised.

"I suppose you are wondering what is going on." She seemed almost – _almost _– amused. I failed to see the humor in this situation.

"As a matter of fact, yes. I was about to ask you what all this is about." Leia smiled frostily.

"Wouldn't you like to know…" She sneered. What was wrong with her? I was getting tired of this game. My anger rose in me, and I tried to push it down for fear of it controlling me. No, there was no way I would ever become like him…Anger was of the Dark Side…wasn't it? Still, I was losing my patience.

"Leia, just tell me, will you?" She scrunched up her eyebrows, as if in concentration.

"Umm…no," She said in a sing-song voice, offering me a fake smile. " I think I'll let you figure it out yourself." I sighed in frustration.

"Leia, this isn't funny. I want to know." She laughed, then frowned again, pinning me with a stare. It was unsettling how she was reminiscent of a snake.

"You know exactly what is going on," She spat.

"Tell me!" I ordered. Leia smirked.

"Oh, come on…haven't you inherited any brains from…your father?" She asked, spiteful. I felt as if I had swallowed a ton of ice. No, she didn't know. She was just poking fun at how I had worshiped my nonexistent father. Hell, she was probably just trying to irk me, though this was not the time for it. I set my jaw.

"Leia…" I warned. This was definitely not the time. She flashed me another parody of a smile. I was not amused.

"But you do know – don't you…Vader?" My blood turned to ice, my heart stopped, my breaths shaking within me. I twisted my face into a mask of total indifference, but my true state was poorly disguised. I struggled to keep my face straight. Leia smiled cruelly as she realized that she had struck a chord.

"Vader…?" I rasped. I could feel my eyes widen and my vision blur. I shut my eyes. I could not show any sign of weakness, not in front of _her._ Her eyes glittered.

"Yes, Vader. Do you know what they're doing now?" For a moment I stared at her, bewildered. Then I realized that she was referring to the brass. I shook my head.

"They're currently debating on what to do with you. Some of them want to execute you, some of them don't," She said, her upper lip curling in disgust. "And you know what, Vader?" She asked, stabbing me in the already open and festering wound, twisting the knife again and again. She paused, as if to wait for a response, but then continued, her voice soft but deadly.

"I will do everything in my power to ensure that you _do_ die." I gaped at her, then gritted my teeth.

"Why are you doing this to me?" I bit out, shaking. Leia didn't answer.

"Leia?" My voice cracked.

"If you'll excuse me. I have matters to attend to. Good day to you, Vader." With that, she departed.

"Leia, wait!" Too late. She was already gone.

I sunk back against the wall, resting my forehead against my knees. I was alone again, in every sense of the word. I felt a burning sensation behind my eyes, a tightening in m y chest. I bit my lip to hold everything in. Crying was for wimps, and I could not afford to be weak. Lately it had taken all my strength to keep from unraveling and falling apart, but now that I was all alone, I broke. There was no one there to see me so vulnerable.

I wondered how much longer I could hang on. What kept me going? What kept me from simply letting myself wither and die? At times I walked the line. At times I would almost break under the weight of it all – Obi-wan and his tangled web of lies, the alliance, who would one minute glorify me and betray me the next, Vader…

Vader was with me, wherever I went. No matter what I did, he stayed in my mind, his Force presence clinging to my own. He stayed with me, even when I slept. He was always watching me. He wanted me, he was always hunting me, like the predator he was. He never relented and wouldn't rest until I was in his grasp. He left me in a constant state of fright.

I had never felt so forsaken. Forsaken – by all of them. The Jedi they'd used me and had shamelessly, thoughtlessly lied to me, or at least Obi-wan had. The alliance – the people I fought with, the ones I had trusted with my life, they'd jumped to the conclusion that I had been a traitor all along, despite my obvious if misplaced devotion. My father – my _real _(unreal?) father – had suddenly chosen to disappear, being replaced by my most hated foe. Sith, was I disposable? Something you could use and then carelessly throw away?

And now Leia. Why Leia? Why her, damnit? Not only had I trusted her with my life, I had trusted her with my _soul. _I would have done anything for her, _anything. _I would have died for her without a second thought. I would have lived a life of misery for her. I had loved her. No, not the romantic way, but that changed nothing. She was the one I loved the most. She had said she would stay with me forever, no matter what happened. But she had broken the promise. She had abandoned me, her words forgotten. And she had left me broken and bleeding.

Why, I asked myself. Why had she betrayed me? Leia wouldn't do this. She was too compassionate. It just wasn't in her nature to hate. Unless she had reason to. And she had...My face was wet with tears. Or was it blood that stained my cheeks? It had to be blood, their blood. The blood of all the ones I'd killed. It was like a curse. Everywhere I went, death followed. Darkness flowed from me, and it drove them all away. I had often wondered what it was. Now I knew. It was a curse, one I'd been born with, one I'd been born _into_.

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A/N: Like it? Hate it and think I shouldn't be allowed near a keyboard? Speak your mind. 


	3. Part III

Disclaimer: insert witty, sarcastic humor here Alright, alright. SW ain't mine. Happy?

**LVB:** Why thank you...I'm flattered, lol.

**jedi71: **Thank you. As I said, Leia won't be finding out for a while, though, and when she does...circumstances will have changed.

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**Part III**

I must have dozed off as I was awakened by the hiss of a door opening. I rubbed my eyes and got up. Leia was there - I almost jumped at that. Maybe I could explain everything to her, and she'd understand. I opened my mouth to speak, but she beat me to it.

"Hello, Vader." I winced inwardly then silenced any emotion I might have felt. I had to remain strong, at least in front of Leia.

"Leia—"

"I have some good news," She interrupted, her facial expression stoic. "Good for me, I mean. I would have left you in the dark, but considering that you _are_…dark…" She trailed off, smiling maliciously. I took the opportunity to speak.

"Leia, you…you don't understand. I – I can explain everything, hear me out, alright?" Leia snorted in contempt.

"Believe me, I know all about your little exchange with Vader. Word for word." I gaped at her, confused. Then why was she acting that way? Surely she would understand…Wouldn't she?

"Then you _do_ know that I am not a traitor." She smiled brightly, but there was something wrong about it, something _fake_.

"Oh, I know that," She said with a small laugh, then became serious again. "But they don't. They think you've known all along and have been infiltrating the alliance. Fools. I didn't come here just to say hi to you, not that I'd want to." I clenched my teeth and bit back a bitter retort.

"And," She added mock-cheerfully, "if everything goes as I anticipate, you _will _die." She might as well have stabbed me with a lightsaber and left it there, leaving me to bleed and die. I stared at the floor and tried to keep my resolve intact. Collecting myself, I looked up at her. She leered at me.

"Then…then w-why don't you just kill me yourself? Why don't you just slaughter me with your bare hands?" Leia looked mildly amused, though I meant each and every word of it.

"Oh, come now. Have you no common sense? Picture this, Vader. Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan, rebel leader, brutally murdering Commander Skywalker, hero of Yavin, the last of the _Jedi_ and overall living legend…that would not exactly fit my image, now would it? I would have opted for a messier, bloodier death, but in this situation, I had to be more…subtle. A little more sleight of hand was required…" I tried to keep my breathing even, to keep my cool, to keep the tears at bay, but my attempts were in vain. Leia chuckled softly.

"Something wrong? Did I hurt your feelings?" I chose to ignore that. I could not let her get to me; that was her exact intention.

"You can't do this, Leia." I breathed. She feigned surprise.

"Oh? And why is that?" I found myself with nothing to say. There was no logical reason.

"Because…because…"

"Even if I did want to, there is nothing I can do to stop it. Your fate depends on them. I will see you at the funeral, if they even deem you worthy of one…" She left before I could reply, leaving me alone with my thoughts, alone with my misery. She left me alone. All alone. I cast my eyes down and leaned my forehead against the wall.

"Leia…" I whispered. "I know I failed you. I know I wasn't there when you needed me. I know I'm not Han. I know I am everything you hate most. And I'm sorry, Leia." But she wasn't there to hear me. I could apologize a thousand times and it would hold no meaning. Did anything I say have meaning? Or was it all one gigantic lie, part of the lie that was my life?

The lie would end soon, in mere hours. This was the end. Finis. Death was hours if not minutes away. I was going to die. Oh Force, I was going to die. Unexpectedly, panic set in. Did I want this? Yes. I undoubtedly did. It was my only desire. It was my sole ambition. Could I die? No. Oh, it was more than possible. It was inevitable. But death was not an option, at least not at that time.

My mind raced, faster than I knew was possible. I had to get out of there, or die trying. _There is no try…there is no die. _I would get out of there. It wasn't that I did not want to die, for life ahead of me was empty. Without a cause, without a reason to fight, without a soul. It was so much easier to give in, but I knew I could not walk the easy path.

It wasn't that I feared death. _Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering. _Was this not suffering? Was this anything but pain beyond measure? I choked back a sob. Stars, I was a wreck…A wreck, just like the mess that was my life. So why didn't I just give up and wait for them to put me out of my misery?

I was a ruin, but it wasn't only me. Everything was messed up, and I knew I was the only one who could make things right again. Leia loathed me with a passion, but I did not return the feeling. I remembered vowing that I would find Han if it was the last thing I did. Maybe it would be the last thing I did. No…there was still my father – _Yes, my father, _I admitted to myself – to deal with. My dark, corrupt, baneful father. The essence of evil, an angel of death.

I shook myself out of my thoughts. Tempted as I was, I could not sit there and brood forever. I reached out with the Force and, flinching at Vader's cold, now ever-present Force sense, inserting my mind into theirs, knocked out the guards outside the cell. My abilities were far from reliable, but hopefully they would remain under for a while. Then I analyzed the door. The lock was on the outside, so the only way I could reach it would be with the Force. I hoped that I could focus enough to undo the locking mechanism. _Here goes nothing. _

Surprisingly enough, it worked. I slipped out of the cell and surveyed my surroundings. The guards – two of them - were still out cold. _These guys are lax when it comes to security._ They'd actually thought that they could keep me in one place for long… I then headed for the docking bays. Hopefully no one would notice me. If they did…well, I would have no choice but to kill them, or at least knock them unconscious.

They didn't see me, or paid me no mind when they did. Maybe the news of me being a Vader had not yet spread…In that case, they would not missed me until my guards woke up. I ran over to my X-Wing. Strangely enough, I heard a beep behind me. I whirled around, drawing my blaster, only to be greeted by the familiar sight of Artoo.

"Whoa, Artoo, you scared me. What are you doing here?" Artoo answered in a series of whistles and beeps. That droid never ceased to amaze me.

"Followed me, huh? Yes, I am leaving." He whirred and beeped insistently.

"Alright, _we're _leaving." The droid warbled a question.

"Yes, we're leaving forever." He beeped enquiringly.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you." I could have sworn I saw him nod in understanding. For a moment my thoughts strayed to the subject of Rogue Squadron. I hated to leave so abruptly, but I wouldn't have regained my position either way. Still, I would miss the rogues.

The next part of my escape went quite smoothly – an X-wing wasn't out of place in a Rebel fleet. Once I was in hyperspace, a sigh of relief escaped me. I was free, or about as free as I could get. I was like a bird, free, but forever wandering. I had nowhere to go now…No, I did. I would go to Tatooine and rescue Han. I would not leave that to Leia – it was more dangerous than she thought, and it was my duty. I could not break my promise to her.

Approximately one standard week later…

I pulled my black, hooded cloak tighter around me as the wind buffeted me, blowing minuscule grains of sand into my face. Even after all these years, it was amazing how cold Tatooine nights were, especially for a planet with two suns. Still, I was a Jedi, a less than adequately trained one, but I had the mentality. Or at least part of it. Cold alone would not stop me. So I continued approaching Jabba's palace. Fat and ugly, it seemed to perfectly fit the Hutt's taste.

It was surprisingly easy to get in – they didn't expect many people to come there at night, and the Force could have a strong influence on the weak-minded – one thing Ben _hadn't _lied about. Apparently even gangsters like Jabba slept, but I shouldn't have been surprised. This was somewhere between late night and early morning.

I entered a large chamber, a throne room of some sort. On the far wall, under a spotlight, hung a slab of carbonite – Han, I realized with a pang. I stepped forward and studied the controls on the side of the coffin-like box. Then, I flipped a switch, and the carbonite began to glow red and crack, revealing the ex-smuggler's features.

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A/N: Yeah, a little short, I know, but it's the best I can do for now. Feedback is always appreciated, be it good or bad. 


	4. Part IV

First of all, thank you to all who reviewed - it means a lot to me.

**Relyan - **To answer your question, it's probably all of the above. I imagine there would be a lot of prejudice against anyone related to Vader, especially among rebels. It's a little ironic when you see the hypocrisy involved.

Yeah, I know I'm late, but DRL has been _really_ evil. School is another word for toned-down slavery. While the updates may at times be irregular, rest assured that they will come.

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**Part IV**

Han's POV

It's indescribable. I'm not dead, that's for sure, or I wouldn't be thinking this. What scares me is that I'm not so sure that I'm alive either. Maybe I'm somewhere in between…It's a dreamlike state, a delirium of sort. It's a curious sensation, being both confined to and detached from your own body. It's helplessness of the worst kind. I want to scream for somebody to save me, but I cannot even speak, and there's no one there to hear my desperate cries.

I cannot move, I cannot speak, I cannot breathe. Oh Sith, I can't breathe. The carbonite envelops me, it constricts me. I idly wonder why my life isn't bleeding away with each breath, or lack thereof. I have lost track of time. It could have been hours, days, months, even years for all I know. Either way, time I has no meaning as it has all merged into one huge mass.

So I bid my time, and do the one thing I have not been stripped of the privilege of – think. Leia would have laughed at that. _Han Solo, think? An oxymoron if I've ever seen one…_I can almost hear her voice, her tinkling laughter. Leia…where are you? What has become of you, what has become of us?

Suddenly my mind wanders onto the subject of Bespin. Images flash before my eyes. The carbon-freezing chamber, Leia's smooth, porcelain face stained red by the fiery light, wet with tears. _I love you._ Her last words still linger in my mind. _I love you. _And I didn't even tell her I loved her back…Would I ever tell her, or was I doomed to stay here until my death?

Panic stabs me like a million shards of ice. What happened after? What if she's dead, killed by Vader? No, she's not dead, Luke probably rescued her. Had I the ability to do so, I would snort. No, the kid can't even keep himself out of trouble, let alone rescue anyone. He'd probably fallen right into the middle of Vader's trap…What if he's dead? What if they all are, and I am to be Jabba's trophy for the rest of my life…? What if—

My thoughts were cut short by a burning sensation on my skin. I gasped for air, but there was none…no, there was, there was air…I could breathe again. As the carbonite cracked and melted away, I took in my surroundings. Darkness…wherever I was, it was pitch black. I felt myself lose my balance and fall, but something – someone? – caught me before I hit the ground, or floor, or deck, whatever it was.

Someone, I decided. But who was it – Leia? I hoped it was Leia and not Boba Fett or some other bounty hunter. No, it wasn't Leia. I doubted that she could hold me up, not that I'd ever tell her that. I swallowed.

"Umm…who are you?" What (s)he said next I didn't expect.

"Han, it's _me_." My eyes widened, but I still couldn't see a thing. It sure was dark in here, wherever 'here' was.

"Kid?" I rasped, my throat suddenly raw, my mouth dry. I shouldn't have been surprised, being trapped in carbonite for Force knows how long.

"Yeah…" Yes, it was him. Relief flooded me, despite the fact that I knew nothing about my surroundings or what had happened, or what was happening at the moment. I started to speak again. My voice sounded strange to my own ears, and my mind seemed to overload with questions.

"Am I glad to see you…Only I can't actually _see _you... What is this place – why's it so dark in here? And _when _are we?"

"One thing at a time. We're in Jabba's palace, a bit over two weeks since you were frozen. Temporary blindness is a side-effect of your hibernation – your vision should return within a few hours." _Well, at least it's only temporary. _Somehow it didn't sound like him, but then, maybe I'd been underestimating his intelligence. I would never admit to it, but I often did. I then blurted out the first thing on my mind, the question that had been plaguing me the whole time I was 'frozen'.

"She's…How about we talk after we're out of this. We have to get out of here before Jab—"As we stood up to leave, the air was pierced by a resonant Huttese cackle. Jabba.

"What's that? I know that laugh." Boy, did I know that laugh. Further away, a curtain opened, probably revealing the grotesque slug.

"Hey, Jabba. Look, Jabba, I was just on my way to pay you back, but I got a little sidetracked." I knew he wouldn't buy my excuse, or just wouldn't give a damn, but it was worth a try. Jabba just laughed, though there was no humor in the situation. At least not for me, there wasn't. He spoke again, in Huttese, but it was my second language, so I had no trouble understanding.

"It's a little too late for that, Solo. You may have been a good smuggler, but now you're bantha fodder." _More like the other way around, you obese, perverted blob of grease. _I held back my retort, though. Upsetting a Hutt wasn't the smartest thing to do, and he wasn't exactly happy with me either.

"Look…"

"Take him away!"

"Jabba…I'll pay you triple! You're throwing away a fortune here. Don't be a fool!" The corpulent Hutt ignored my offer and we were bodily dragged away.

"You're gonna regret this," Luke said as the guards led us away. I wanted to laugh, but that wouldn't have been very supportive.

We were thrown into a cell or dungeon of some sort. As I sunk against the wall, I heard the kid mutter something that sounded like "déja vu". I decided not to comment on that, though I wondered what he could find familiar about this situation. Instead, I asked about Leia again. Who would have thought, Solo, by name and nature, worrying about some snobby brat of a princess…Then again, she wasn't snobby, nor was she a brat. She was beautiful, intelligent and spirited.

"She's with the alliance." Something sparked in his eyes as he replied. I pressed further.

"Why isn't she here?"

"Well, she doesn't really _know _I'm here. It's…a long story." He didn't bother to elaborate on it, so I left it alone, at least for the time being.

"So, what now?" He shrugged.

"They're probably going to have us executed." He said it as if it didn't even bother him. Hell, we were about to die, and he said it so casually.

"Great. So we're both going to die. This is just perfect." Luke raised an eyebrow.

"Who said anything about dying?"

"You did. What, you have a plan?"

"Well…no, but I'll think of something when the time comes." I snorted. Some rescue this was.

"Famous last words."

The next few hours were painstakingly boring. Luke had fallen into a trance of some sort, probably some of that hocus-pocus of his and didn't make very good company. After what seemed like forever, he 'woke up'.

"They're going to feed us to a rancor, you know." _Talk about optimism…_

"You do realize that we _are _going to die. Although, somehow I've always pictured myself going out with a bang, not executed by some overgrown slug…" He sighed, exasperated.

"We're _not _going to die – How many times do I have to tell you that?" I laughed dryly at that.

"Then what do you suggest? Fight the damn thing?" This was getting less and less sane by the minute.

"Well…yes."

"And what do we do after that?" I snapped at him.

"Don't worry about it…I have everything under control." Right. Just what I needed – for the kid to get delusions of grandeur. Before we could continue that ridiculous conversation, some four or five palace guards came in – I couldn't be sure of how many there were, as my vision was only beginning to return. All I could see were blurs of different colours. They 'escorted' us down to what I thought was a dungeon, then to a smaller chamber – probably the rancor pit. Sure enough, there was light overhead. So, we'd have spectators…

It was still beyond me how the two of us could defeat a rancor. Hell, even five of us probably wouldn't stand a chance. Sith, I was a goner! I frantically looked around, but my vision was so unfocused I could only see vague outlines. A few meters away, a large iron gate rumbled open to reveal a large blur of a nondescript colour somewhere between green, yellow and brown – the thing whose dinner I would soon become.

As it advanced on us, I desperately searched for a way to escape this situation, but it had us backed into a corner.

"You attack while I distract it!" Luke ordered, picking up a long bone that had belonged to the rancor's previous snack. Normally I would have bristled at being bossed around by some green kid from a backwater planet, but there was simply no time for that. I nodded in acknowledgement.

The only problem was that I couldn't do too much damage with only my bare hands. I needed a weapon, a makeshift one at the very least. I picked up a sharp, jagged piece of bone. Meanwhile, it had the kid in its grasp. I started towards it, but decided that it was not a very good idea as it flailed about, something off-white, the bone, wedged in its mouth. Pouring as much strength as I could into my muscles, I threw the shard of bone, bullseying it, or rather rancor's-eying it, in the eye. That would buy us a little time.

Luke, now on the floor, got up and bolted for the gate. I followed. Not far away was a sliver of light – an escape? No, it was barred. No way out. We were rancor fodder. It launched itself at us at a surprisingly fast speed, especially for a reptile, as most were rather slow-moving. Luke picked up a skull, fat load of good that would do…I was proved to have misunderstood as it collided with the door controls, sending the gate crashing down, beheading the creature. That had been too close for comfort.

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	5. Part V

Disclaimer: Why bother...see first post.

Thank you all for the kind reviews. You'll hate me after this, though. Ahem...

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**Part V**

Jabba was evil-tempered, even for a Hutt. So you imagine his reaction when he found out we'd killed his favorite pet. I shouldn't have been surprised when he ordered for us to be literally thrown to the sarlacc. Of course, being told of how I will be slowly and painfully digested for a thousand years did not help one bit. It was kind of ironic – out of the frying pan and into the fire. Trust the kid to get us both into even more trouble. I shot him a glare, assuming that the black blur next to me was him. I wasn't sure if the whole time I'd seen him he'd ever worn black. Well, this would be the first and last time I'd see him wear black, because soon, or not so soon if Jabba was correct about us slowly being digested, we'd both be dead.

We were on a skiff with some of Jabba's guards, Lando among them. To be frank, I had no clue of what he might have been doing there – what business did he have with Jabba? Unless he was involved in my botched up rescue…Well, there was no way out this time. Like it or not, we'd soon be forced to walk the plank. I attempted to make conversation and said the first thing that came to mind, aside from our impending doom.

"I think my eyes are getting better. Instead of a big dark blur, I see a big bright blur."

"There's not much to see. I used to live here, you know."

"You're gonna die here, you know. Convenient."

"Just stick close to Chewie and Lando. I've taken care of everything."

"Oh…great!" I couldn't keep the sarcasm out of my voice. What the hell was he going to do, anyway? Use his Force mumbo-jumbo?_ Right, kid. Last time I remember, I was pulling your scrawny butt out of trouble. _

From farther away I could hear Goldenrod say something about our death and us begging for mercy. As if that would ever happen. I stepped forward.

"Threepio, you tell that slimy piece of…worm-ridden filth that he'll get no such pleasure from us! Right?" Chewie growled in agreement.

"Jabba! This is your last chance. Free us or die." _Kid, I wish I had your confidence…_With that, he was prodded toward the ramp, where he saluted. I smirked, despite the circumstances. He then proceeded to jump – to his death…

Total chaos ensued. A split second later, he was back on the barge, blasting away at everything with a blaster he'd seemingly produced out of nowhere. The next part was just a hazy blur of fighting. That's what usually happens – you slip into the fight mentality and time pretty much has no meaning. Your instincts take over and you move without thought. Not that it's a bad thing – this was no time for thinking.

Before I knew it, we were flying away at top speed from the sail barge, which had transformed itself into a gigantic ball of fire. We had made it – barely, but we'd escaped nonetheless.

In about half an hour, we arrived to at wherever the _Falcon _was stationed. After helping Chewie, who'd been wounded at some point, onto the _Falcon_, Luke and I took a moment to just stare at each other I did a double take. Who the hell was this guy and what had he done to my friend? He was wearing something that resembled that old man Kenobi's robes, except for the fact that they were black, and one black leather glove. He'd never struck me as one for weird fashion statements, but what else could it be? He was paler and thinner than I remembered, but that could have just the black that made it seem so.

But the more definite changes were in his eyes, the way they were no longer bright with excitement and enthusiasm, instead they seemed sadder…older. It was hard to believe that only two weeks had passed – he seemed to have aged a decade. Of course, appearance-wise he still looked barely out of his teens, but the naïve farm kid was gone for good.

"So, why don't you leave that crate and come with us?" I asked in an attempt to relieve the tension, indicating his X-Wing. He shook his head.

"You go on without me…Leia needs you." I stared at him in shock. After staying with the rebels for three years, he was just going to abandon them? After constantly trying to convince me to stay, he was going to leave himself?

"What, you're not coming back?" Distant, he shook his head again.

"I'm sorry…" He said quietly. "Tell Leia I'm sorry." This was getting really absurd. I had no clue whatsoever of what he might have had to be sorry for, but then, I'd been out of it for awhile.

"Then why don't you come with us and tell her yourself?"

"I won't be coming back. There's something I have to do…I don't think I'll be back for a _long _time." He smiled softly, but the smile was wan.

"Well, we can always slave your ship to mine and I'll drop you off at wherever you're going."

"Right." He replied shortly, staring off into space again.

Luke's POV

As I walked into the spare cabin on the Falcon, I let the covers fall away, let the mask fall to the floor, let the lie vanish and let the ever-present frailty seep through to the outside. After all, wasn't it alright to be weak when there was no one there to see you in such a vulnerable state? I literally let myself fall, with the lies, with the lie that was me, to the floor. I could have lain there forever, waiting for my end, but something still drove me forward. Maybe it was because I had to face my fa – _He's not—don't call him that, and he won't be_. I had to face him again, even though it was so much easier to let everything unravel and fall apart.

Hours could have passed, but I wouldn't have realized it. I had become so immersed in the construction of a new lightsaber that, for a moment, I had forgotten everything. It was that, or the half-empty bottle of liquor beside me. I took yet another swig. It burned its way down, numbing me to the core. I seldom drank and wouldn't have were I in my right mind, but it was the only thing that could kill the pain…short of death, which was the one thing I could not have.

I slid the last component into place. Finally, it was complete. I held it at arms length, igniting it. It was a brilliant green blade, as intense as my previous one, but not as stainless as the last. A change for the better, for it too had been a lie, had it not? It had been a relic from a past long-forgotten. Had it also been founded on deceit? How could one ever hope to vanquish evil with a lie? I lowered my gaze to stare at the now extinguished saber.

…_It is the weapon of a Jedi Knight…_

…_a Jedi Knight…_

Of Anakin Skywalker. _Of Darth Vader? _No, not Vader. My father's weapon.

…_He was the best star-pilot in the galaxy, and a cunning warrior…_

And everything I was not, and would never be.

…_Wars not make one great_…

I of all people should have known that by now…No matter how many wars you lived through, you stayed the filth you were. Filth…scum…vermin…sithspawn. I took another swig of the liquor. Some Jedi I made. I laughed bitterly at the irony of it all. If only they could all see me now. I wondered what they'd think of their golden boy, their last hope, if they saw him like this. _Nothing, probably. _After all, was it not exactly what I had become? And I was nothing to them.

…_For over a thousand generations, the Jedi Knights were the guardians of peace and justice_…

_Peace? _I snorted in derision. Hypocrisy if I'd ever seen it. All they seemed to want was war.They had used and manipulated me, lied to and deceived me to twist me to their will, to forge me into a living, breathing weapon. They wanted me to kill my own father. I had had blindly trusted, I had written off my soul to them. I had followed them devotedly, unquestioningly. And for all my devotion, they had betrayed me.

Did I call myself one of them? Could I call myself one of them? No. If that was what being a Jedi meant, I would never become one. My destiny did not lie with them, or Vader, or anyone. Destiny was just another way to force someone into doing something without justification, just another word for drawn out, unceasing agony. So I ripped it all from the inside and threw it away.

No Jedi. No destiny. No meaning. No reason to fight. So the pain came back to fill me until I could break under the infinite weight. I emptied the bottle. The fire spilled down, but this time it only seemed to burn away the remnants of my twisted, mangled soul. I writhed under the flaring pain. As I lost the will, I withdrew a small vibroblade from my belt. I absently fingered it. It glinted in the scant lighting of the cabin, and a picture of the same blade glistening with blood floated across my mind.

I had the power to end everything now. No more anguish, no more lies, no more betrayal, no more darkness. I started to plunge it into my torso, but thought better of it and raked across my flesh, reveling in the pain. I plunged into my left forearm, smiling in satisfaction, jerking it hard, feeling tear through my flesh, laughing as the blood ran down my skin to spatter on the deck. I withdrew it and watched the floor stain crimson. _Take that, Vader. I hope you feel it. _I hoped both Vaders felt it.

Detachedly, I wondered if this could be fatal. Either way, I had nothing to lose. But I still had to save him. I had to try.

_Do or do not, there is no try. _

_Shut up! _I wanted to scream, but the last thing I wanted was to wake up the whole damn ship. They would have thought me insane. Maybe they would think right, for the last vestiges of my sanity were slowly fading away.

I had to try. It wasn't for the Jedi. To hell with them. I hated them. Maybe it was best that they had all had died in the purges. Maybe it was for my dark father, hopelessly trapped in the evil, drowning deep in the endless dark. And stars, I wanted nothing more than to save him, to bring him back, to resurrect him. And it was for the Force. My loyalty lay in the Force, and only in the Force.

I let the blade clatter to the floor and curled up on the deck. My weary, wasted mind waned, and all the feelings drained from me. Eternal blackness beckoned, and I prayed for it to take me. And slowly, it did. The world faded out, taking with it the merciless onslaught of agony. And I knew no more.

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A/N: Muhahaha...I love tormenting people with cliffhangers.


	6. Part VI

Disclaimer: To hell with those. See first post.

A/N: Thanks to everyone for reviewing. I know I'm late again...trustmy enormous pile of workand to interfere. Here's the next part.

P.S. **Daniel-Radclife-is-Cute -**Strangely enough, myidea**s**for new fics come whenever I'm in the process ofwriting a fic and come down with writer's block...If you must know, I first thought of a dark vignette, which is actually the ending of this fic, then combined it with an idea I got while writing my other fic, _My Darkness_, and added a few twists.

P.P.S. This> indicates Chewie's speech.

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**Part VI**

I groaned as I woke up on what seemed to be the Falcon's deck. For a moment, I wondered how I had gotten there, until everything came back to me. I sat up and immediately regretted it. This had to be the worst hangover I had ever had. Apparently even Jedi weren't immune to them – _You are not a Jedi, remember? You said it yourself. _I flopped back down on the bloodstained deck. _Bloodstained? _I looked down. It was_ my_ blood, still oozing from a deep, inflamed-looking wound in my forearm, one that I'd inflicted on myself. I did not regret it.

So I wasn't dead. My own disappointment surprised me. I had been half-hoping that it was lethal and that I had ended everything. I hadn't, and life, now a burden, dragged on. It would have been infinitely easier, but here I was, still hanging on to a hopelessly empty life. All for the sake of duty. But I could find freedom in death after it was over. The grave I longed for was so distant, unreachable like the dark beyond the stars.

So I was trapped in a pitiful existence that I could not escape. I was a prisoner in my own body, in my own life, with no hope of freedom. I got up, slowly this time, and glanced at my wrist chrono. It was that time between night and morning, around 0300, or at least to us it was. There was no day or night in space. The last thing I wanted to do was sleep. After putting on a long-sleeved black shirt to cover everything up, I walked out of the cabin in an attempt to calm my nerves.

I did not expect to find Chewie in the main hold. Maybe Wookiees did not need as much sleep as humans. I sat down beside him. For a moment, we remained silent, until he spoke.

You hate him, yet you feel compassion toward him. You want to save him, yet you wish he had never come into your life. Tell me, Cub, why do you want to save him?> All I could do was gape at him. He couldn't be referring to…_him_…Yes – he _was_… I parted my lips to speak, but no sound came out. I swallowed, raising my gaze to meet knowing blue eyes.

"Because he's…" I stopped, transfixed. "You know, Chewie. You've always known, haven't you?" He nodded mutely, resignedly.

"But…how?" Chewie made a sound that could have been a chuckle, but I could have been wrong. I had been known to be wrong many times.

Do you know how old Wookiees live to be?> I shook my head. _What does that have to do with anything?_

Centuries, Young One, centuries. I once knew a young human, much like yourself. One of the best pilots in the galaxy and a great Jedi Knight. His name was Anakin Skywalker.> _The Lie, you mean?_

"He was real…?" I did not dare believe he had once existed, untainted by the darkness. Not after I had found out that he was nothing, nothing but a lie to make me hate, a lie to make me fight, a lie to make me a weapon.

"He wasn't always…well, _evil_?" Wistfully, he shook his head.

He was once a good man. Strong, courageous, kind, even noble at times. But he was also ambitious, arrogant, even. And he – like you – wanted to save everyone. It was his undoing.> Once again, I found myself staring blankly at both everything and nothing.

Force, he'd known my father. Not Vader, my father. And he'd known of his fate all along. I lowered my eyes to the floor. My throat tightened, my vision blurred. He'd known, and he, like everyone else, had said nothing. He'd watched me put the mere memory on a pedestal, even as that memory was drowned in the shadow of the dark being he had become. And he had said nothing, kept me in the dark like so many others.

Deep inside, I searched for the anger, the one thing to break my fall, finding none, only a profound hollowness, a cold black void within my soul. Burning tears of betrayal forced their way out of my eyes, trickling down my face in tiny rivers.

"All those times I spoke of him, of avenging him…Why didn't you tell me?" He looked down on me in what could have been regret.

Some things are better left unsaid. Some secrets are better off kept. I chose not to burden you with the secret…I felt it was too heavy a weight to carry…I'm sorry.> A tense quiet over us, his words still hanging in the air. With no anger, hatred or bitter resentment left in me, I could only forgive.

Han's POV

We had almost arrived at our destination, where I would drop the kid off – if he could still be called that. Force, in the two short weeks of my absence, my little brother in all but blood had gone and grown up. Too soon, too fast. I no longer knew this person. In so little time, he'd gone from a green, wet-behind-the-ears kid to a complex individual that I just couldn't understand.

You fear that which you do not understand. You fear the dark and the unknown, the enigmatic and the unpredictable. You fear that which is beyond human comprehension. It was hopelessly conflicting and irrational. I didn't fear him, or fear would be too strong a word. No, I couldn't fear him. He was, apart from Chewie, my best friend, and I knew he would never consciously do anything to bring me harm. That I knew, but it changed nothing.

It was like an aura that floated all around him, one of light, bright and painful, of quiet, beautiful despair, of swirling dark that sought to absorb you and pull you down into its depths. It could have been my own madness that told me that, but I was as sane as I'd ever been. Had I truly been out of my mind, I would have been unaware. I knew of its existence. And I feared it.

_Speak of the Sith, _I thought as said person strode into the cockpit. Now he was in for it. Fear or not, I still had to find out what the hell had happened, and if he wasn't going to tell me, I would force it out of him. Now that he was here, I would have him backed into a corner.

"So, Kid, care to fill me in on what happened while I was gone or is this some sort of conspiracy between the four of you to keep me uninformed?" Luke forced a laugh.

"No, I wouldn't call it that." I arched an eyebrow at that.

"Then what would you call it?" Dropping his façade, he replied my question with another.

"Why name something if it is nonexistent?"

"You're making my brain hurt," I commented in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"Brains can't feel pain. They feel nothing." He said, his tone strangely neutral, devoid of any emotion. I suppressed a shiver.

"Stop it, will ya? You're freaking me out. No more games, just tell me." He frowned, keeping his silence.

"You know, I'm sure Leia knows everything. She'll be more than happy to give me all the details." I wondered what I had said to make the blood drain from his face. I fright? No, this was absurd. Why in space would he ever be afraid of Leia revealing the truth?

"Alright, Han. You win." And he told me everything. I watched and listened numbly as he recounted the details of the events of Bespin and those that followed all in that same dead tone.

"…and now…she hates me. I don't know what I did to anger her. My mere presence disgusts her…Maybe it's just who I am," He finished glumly. I stared at him, transfixed. For a moment I felt revulsion and wanted nothing more than to pull back, as far away from him as possible.

Then common sense set in. Did I really give a mouldy womp rat's ass about who the kid's dad was? So what had changed, now that I knew? _Nothing_, that was the answer. He was still the same guy, no matter where he came from, because that was just it. It was blood, and nothing more. It meant nothing alone, without the attachments that usually came with it.

What shocked me so much more was Leia. It just did not fit. It denied all that she was. This was not the Leia I knew. She wouldn't have given in to blind hatred without so much as a valid reason, despite her unpleasant history with Vader. She would have known better, she would have seen through. Wasn't she beyond such grudges? Wasn't she beyond such prejudice? Wasn't she the compassionate, democratic, diplomatic person I knew? Or had things changed more than I realized? _No, _I denied, it was probably a misconception of Luke's. She couldn't hate him. It had most likely been momentary resentment.

After saying his goodbyes, Luke turned to me, piercing me with his gaze. I would never get used to that stare.

"I never did tell you what I will do from here. I'm going to face him." I narrowed my eyes. He didn't mean…

"Vader? You're gonna face Vader?" He nodded.

"I know there is good in him. I can't explain it, but I…I just know it. I can bring him back, Han." I swallowed hard, keeping my emotions in check.

"Don't do it. I tell you, that's a big mistake you're making." Miniature firestorms raged in otherwise cool blue eyes.

"I know this will be difficult…and that I may never make it out alive, but—" This had to stop now.

"Forget difficult, this is _suicide_! Damnit, Kid, just what do you think you're doing? If you think you can best him after getting your ass kicked only weeks ago, you must be out of your mind! You're gonna get yourself killed!" He fixed me with sad, anguished crystal orbs, and uttered three quiet words.

"So I will." And he departed.

Shortly after I returned to the fleet, Leia arrived to greet me, throwing herself into my arms. I had not conceived just how much I had missed her. But it did not matter, now that I had her back. I wanted to hold her and never let go, to stay in that embrace forever, but all good things came to an end. We broke apart.

"Hello, love." She smiled.

"I never took you as the mushy type." I laughed.

"Me, mushy? I'm offended…"

Hand in hand, we walked to her quarters. Everything was fine until I brought up _the _subject. Suddenly, she turned cold as Hoth, hardening to bitter stone.

"I wish he was dead."

The words reverberated again and again. And for the first time, I saw that things really had changed more than I realized.

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A/N: I will update as soon as possible - that is, as soon as DRL looks away...


	7. Part VII

**Disclaimer: **For the last time, see first post.

**Freetrader: **By now, I suppose, you want to hunt down andcarbon-freeze me...You _could _do that, but it would prevent me from updating...

**

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**

**Part VII**

Luke's POV

A couple more weeks had passed since Han's rescue. Two weeks I'd spent doing practically nothing but training and honing my Force skills. After all, I would need those to hold my own against two darksiders. No matter what _they _said, we _all _knew that the dark side was infinitely stronger and would always triumph as it had before. _You're gonna get yourself killed! _It was more than likely that I would; I had no doubt of that, but I was more than willing to sacrifice life for peace of mind. To have peace of mind I needed…_him_ back.

_No, I am your_—

—_That's not true, that's impossible…_

…_I am your—_

_It's true, you know it's true...Don't try to deny it, Wormie! You can't run forever._

…_I am your father._

I sighed in resignation. Mere days ago I had seemed to accept, welcome, even, the fact that he was my father – _That's not true, that's impossible – _but now that I had surrendered and was on the shuttle on the way to Coruscant, to face Him… _Your father, _my wretched, spiteful other half added, amused at watching me try to deny it once again. The last thing I needed was inner conflict, not when I most needed to keep my confidence and stay true to myself. It's hard to stay true to oneself when you no longer know who you are. All I knew was what I had once been and what I could soon become.

It is time. There is no turning back, not now. I can almost hear his sinister breathing. Even before I hear the sound I know all too well, my blood has frozen in my very veins, my feet are nailed to the floor. Now I see him, too. All too soon he is back in my life – The embodiment of fear, death and pain.

"This is a rebel that surrendered to us. " Extending my lightsaber, "He was armed only with this." Even before he speaks, I already know the sound, a deep, ominous rumble.

"Good work, Commander. Leave us." He utters few words, but somehow they hold more meaning than the longest of speeches.

"Yes, my Lord." He motions for me to follow him, and I obey without question. It is useless to resist. This is self-imposed, is it not? After a long, painfully tense pause, he breaks the silence, if only to spite me.

"The Emperor has been expecting you."

"I know," _Father, _I add mentally, but the thought never leaves my mind. There it will stay.

"So, you have accepted the truth." I stiffen as my resolve hardens.

"I have accepted nothing," I grit out, stabbing him with a fierce glare, my last weapon against him. He seems almost amused.

_/Yet you speak the word in your mind. / _I bristle as I feel his icy black claws in my mind. The anger surfaces again, and I harness it, forcing the evil out of me. This only seems to give him more satisfaction, to my own frustration.

"I've accepted the truth that you were once Anakin Skywalker, my father." Now it is my turn to spite him, and I can't help but relish it.

"That name no longer has any meaning to me." _Oh, but it does, Father, my dear old dark Father,_ _does it not? Does it not bring back the memories? Lies, Vader, lies. _And I knew a lie when I saw one, for I knew lies well. Lies, my old friends, my old foes.

"It is the name of your true self. You've only forgotten. I know there is good in you. The Emperor hasn't driven it from you fully. That is why you couldn't destroy me. That is why you won't take me to your Emperor now." I projected an image, but it too was a lie. _Lies, my old friends. _Inside Iam not so certain. What if all the good in him has already been vanquished? He seems to be nothing but abysmal darkness, despite my words. The fragile conversation dies.

"Come with me," This time I have nothing to hide. I sorely want him back, so much that I ache inside. I raise my eyes to meet black emptiness. Sith, how I want him back… And I feel the dark feelings crumble like a wall collapsing upon itself, replaced by deep, dark grief. The darkness cuts me and my vision blurs as my gaze is met by midnight ice. _Come with me, Father, and we can end this. _But he doesn't answer. I call, and he doesn't answer.

"Obi-Wan once thought as you do. You don't know the power of the Dark Side. I _must _obey my master."

"I will not turn, and you will be forced to kill me." A smile creeps across my face, a mockery of genuine happiness. Death awaits me, the pain laid to rest as I will be laid to rest. _Would you grieve, father? Would you feel sorrow if I died in front of your very eyes? Or would you cast your gaze down for a moment, and once again succumb to the shadows, feeling only a curious emptiness? Would you even realize that something is missing, or would you move on without a second thought – another face in the crowd, another brick in the wall, another life spent, like so many others before me?_

"If that is your destiny." _Destiny : 1.Lies formulated to manipulate you into joining a cause you do not belong to. 2. Intense, unceasing, endless pain. 3. Doom… _

…_Lies, my old foes…_

…_It is your destiny…_

…_Lies…_

…_Your destiny…_

"Search your feelings, Father. You can't do this. I feel the conflict within you, let go of your hate." _Quite the hypocrite, aren't you, Skywalker?_

"It is too late for me, Son. The Emperor will show you the true nature of the Force. He is your master now."

"Then my father is truly dead." _As am I._

Shortly afterward, we entered a long, high-ceilinged chamber, the walls with intricately carved details. At the far end was a large window, covering the entire wall, and in front of it, the Emperor's throne. I shuddered in revulsion as he turned to face us. Not only did he radiate evil of such magnitude that I had to struggle not to flinch at his presence, but he also looked vile and gruesome, but no less than he deserved. Clad in a black, hooded cloak, he showed little skin, of which I was infinitely glad of. He was very pale, with thin, translucent, papery skin that hung off his bones as if it were rotting away by the minute. His fierce amber glare pierced me as viciously as a dagger would. I tried to tear my gaze off him, but was unsuccessful. Whenever you see something disgusting, you suddenly feel that morbid desire to take in every little detail.

"Welcome, Young Skywalker. I have been expecting you." I suppressed a shiver. He sure knew how to creep people out, but that was all he would accomplish.

"So I've heard." He only smiled at my acid reply, revealing grotesque, rotten teeth.

"You'll no longer need those." My binders opened and fell away, clattering to the floor. Oh, how I was tempted to reach out and choke the despot to death. His bitter cries would have been music to my ears. With a start, I pushed the thought away. That was the Dark Side speaking, I could not – would not – give into that. It was exactly what the living corpse wanted. But it was so easy…One time couldn't hurt. After all, wouldn't I be doing it for the greater good of the galaxy and the Force? Just one moment…After all, I would turn back immediately after I would have done my duty…would I not? _No. _I had to stay strong, no matter what. I would not give him the satisfaction of seeing me follow my dark father's path.

"Guards, leave us." As they left, he turned to me. "I am looking forward to completing your training. In time you will call me _Master_." I almost snorted at that. _I'd rather strip my own flesh off my bones with a fork, Your All-High-And-Mighty Darkness. _He chuckled aloud at that, only sparking my fury more.

"Get. Out. Of. My. Mind, you _fiend_." This only seemed to amuse the creature more. I pictured his blood and guts spattered on the floor, staining it a deep red. Palpatine's evil grin faded.

"Soon you will learn to respect your superiors." _Yeah, and Hoth will melt, and banthas will grow wings and start flying…Keep dreaming. If it makes you feel better._

"You're gravely mistaken. You won't convert me as you did my father." He stepped off the throne, approaching me, coming much closer than I would ever want. Smoky blackness bled from him, seeping into everything, sparing nothing, not even my soul. This time, I could not suppress the shudder.

"Oh no, my young Jedi. You will find that it is _you _who are mistaken…about a _great many things_.

"His lightsaber," Vader said, handing him my saber.

"Ah, yes, a Jedi's weapon. Much like your father's. By now you must know your father can never be turned from the Dark Side. So it will be with you." That was the last straw. My mind exploded, transforming into one huge, white-hot fireball, the anger flaring, blinding me. This thing had killed my father. He would pay…He would pay dearly.

Using the Force, I ripped it from his grip and threw myself at him, turning into a veritable whirlwind of destructive power. I waited for my blade to pierce the despot's body, but my blows were matched by Vader's own, blood-red one. I tried to push forward, but, surprisingly, did not. I simply did not have the will to do so; I could not fight my own father, near-unredeemable as he was. But he had no qualms about attacking me. I found myself being driven back, and I knew that the duel was lost. I was backed against the hard, stone wall, with Vader's saber at my throat.

It was a bluff. I knew he wouldn't kill me, as the Emperor wanted me alive. Well, he wouldn't have me alive. I lifted my own blade to my temple. I smirked. _There goes your plan for total domination. _In that fleeting moment of overconfidence, the lightsaber was torn from my grip and sent flying across the room. I was met with Palpatine's dark scowl before being assaulted by a barrage of blue lightning. It set my very bones on fire, consuming me. My mind was a blurred spasm of pain until it too was devoured by shadows. Blissful unconsciousness settled upon me.

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	8. Part VIII

Okay, I'm back. With more fic.

**Freetrader: **Thank you. Here's more.

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**Part VIII**

I woke up to brilliant green orbs boring into mine, and curls of such a fiery red that it hurt my eyes. Confusion settled in my mind. _Who the hell are you? What is this place? What am I doing here? Why do I feel like a Hutt ran over me? _What did it matter? _And what do I have to complain about? _Here I was, with the most beautiful woman alive…and…A jolt of adrenaline coursed through me as I shook myself awake. And then everything came back to me.

_Everything. _Everything was wrong…everything was so messed up. I highly doubted that I had ever been in a worse predicament. My father was dead – It was true. Ben hadn't lied, though at the time I had vehemently thought otherwise. And I would soon be dead…I fervently hoped. If not, I would be condemned to a fate endlessly worse than death and be utterly unaware of it, thinking that I had found my purpose in life, to hunt and destroy anything and everything. Somehow I knew, deep down in my core, that the Emperor had no intention whatsoever to let me die, let alone end my life himself.

I refocused my gaze on the tigress of a woman before me. I could have easily forgotten all of my troubles and simply drunk in the sight of her, salivated as I stared at her, starry-eyed, but any illusions I might have had were dispersed when she drew out a blaster and pointed it at my temple. _Go on. Pull the trigger. _She didn't. _Pull the damn trigger! _No such luck.

"Up. The Emperor demands to see you right away," She said briskly. I rolled my eyes, tempted not to make a move. Maybe then she'd give up and pull the trigger.

"Tell him to shove his Dark Side up his—" If it were possible to shoot laser bolts from one's eyes, she undoubtedly would have done so.

"One more such comment, and I'll make you wish you were dead, " She snapped. _Then I have nothing to lose, do I? _I was sorely tempted to snort at the irony of it all, but thought better of it and decided to humor her. I picked myself off the floor and took in my surroundings. I was in a bare, dark, dank cell. _Could be worse. At least there's no Emperor here. _Unfortunately, I was on my way to see that same withered old corpse. The fool was deluded enough to believe that he could convert me.

One week, five days and eight hours later, Luke Skywalker is beginning to have doubts. To say so would be the understatement of understatements, as life has never been so terribly, cruelly hopeless. The black hole in the Force that is Palpatine pulls everything down. It sucks everything away. Even light dies in its infinite darkness. But he holds on, if only by the skin of his teeth. The sheer evil oppresses him. He can almost feel it burning the remnants of his soul as the harsh, glaring, blazing light of the cell sets his skin afire.

Oh, what a fool he's been, to think himself a match for the power of the dark. In the end, it turns out that his long-dead, dark father has been right all along. He knows he must stay strong until death comes upon him, for it cannot be held back forever. He finds comfort in the fact – _lie? – _that it will come and save him from this wretched hell he lives, in those four little words that he repeats in his now otherwise blank mind. _I will die soon._

He knows that he is the one responsible for his predicament. He had been adamant that he would never turn. The shadow's patience had grown thin, and it had resorted to drastic methods. If it has to break its new if unwilling apprentice, it will, for there is no room for mercy in its raven heart. He has sworn that he will take anything over the Dark side, so he endures it as best as he can.

_I will die soon. I will die soon. I will die soon. _There is something soothing in mindlessly repeating that phrase until it loses meaning, becoming but a random string of words. It is the pulsing rhythm that lets him know that he is still alive. He will die soon. _I will die soon. I will die soon. I will die… Oh please let me die soon! _With his last vestiges of strength, he screams the silent prayer to the air, but there is nothing and no one. No one but himself and the throbbing, searing blood that oozes from the wounds and pools on the blinding white floor.

The glaring white door hisses open and the shadow enters. He raises his gaze and blankly stares at it through feverish, bloodshot eyes. He knows hate is of the Dark, and that he is falling at this very moment, but he can no longer subdue it. His defiance returns. He will not be destroyed by the thing as his dead father had been. The shadow meets his eyes with frigid amber chips of steel. It knows he cannot hold on for much longer. They both know it.

"Then why do you resist? Why do you persist? Do you not know that there is no escape, Young Skywalker?"

"I know that the Dark Side is _evil_," He growls as fiercely as he can. The shadow cackles at that, amused at what it believes is blind naïveté.

"Do you believe yourself to be evil?" His addled mind is confused at the irrelevance of this. Shaking his head, he vainly attempts to hide this fact.

"Yet you say the Dark Side is evil. Then you must be mistaken, no?" He offers no answer, staring blankly into nothingness.

"Yes, my young apprentice, you know it to be true. You know you _are _the darkness. You can be nothing other than just that, for you, Young Jedi, were _spawned _from it." The words feel like vile, filthy black oil, and he frantically searches for a response.

"I am no apprentice of yours, you _slime_," He grits out.

"Then you admit to being nothing but darkness." It is not a question. It is a statement. He intensely denies the statement.

"Oh yes, my young _dark _Jedi. You, like your father, are part of the Dark Side, as it is part of you. And, you, like your father, will remain part of it…_forever_," It hisses, ending it in a cold, harsh whisper. He denies again, as desperately as a dying man clings to life, as desperately as an irredeemable being clings to absolution. He wildly searches for a way out, finding none. He cannot be saved…Can he? _Can he? _A glimmer of hope appears within him. Maybe, just maybe…

_/Father…/_

He calls him, oh so desperately, only to be greeted by emptiness. _Help me, Father. Save me._

"He won't hear you."

_/Father/_

Nothing. His father is dead. He knows it; he knew it even before reaching out. All he has done is given himself false hope, hope bearing the sole purpose of being crushed underfoot.

"Scream, Young One, scream all you want, but he will not hear you. Had he wanted to, he would have answered. The sad truth, Young Skywalker, is that he does not possess the will to do so."

"You are alone…so very alone," It whispers softly in false sympathy.

"But you could change that. I could give you power of a magnitude well beyond anything your dark little mind can conceive," It hisses seductively. And Force, it is tempting, so very tempting. So dreadfully, wretchedly, darkly tempting.

"Leia, this can't go on much longer." Leia scowled at that. Who was he to order her around?

"It can go on for as long as I please, thank you very much."

"_Nerf_," She muttered under her breath. Han only looked more outraged.

"Leia, just take a look at yourself. Take a look at what this is doing to us – you're letting our relationship be destroyed over some petty grudge of yours!" Leia was fuming.

"Petty grudge? Petty _grudge? _Don't you remember what he's done to you? Don't you remember what he's done to _us_?" Han sighed in frustration. She had been so difficult lately. Sometimes it was just so damn hard to bear…

"Sure, Vader's done terrible things, but does that really give you an excuse to hate your friend? Damnit, he was like a brother to you, and you just want to throw everything the two of you have been through to the sarlacc?"

"Well…yes!" Han's temper grew short.

"The kid went to face Vader – he's almost certainly dead now…Luke _died_, and you can't even try to forgive him for something he's never done in the first place? If that's the case, Leia, you obviously aren't the person I thought you were!" Leia was trembling in anger.

"Why you…_ARRGH!_" Unable to take it any longer, she stormed out of the room.

History had repeated itself. For the second time in his life, Obi-Wan Kenobi had lost an apprentice to the Dark Side. His presence had been tainted for a while, but he had not expected it to simply wink out, then be replaced by utter darkness only split seconds later. So unlike Anakin's. Obi-Wan had helplessly watched his slow transformation from good to bad. He had seen it coming. Luke's turning, however, was most peculiar. It was greatly unsettling how he had switched from one side to the other within the blink of an eye.

But the way one turned did not change the horrible truth that they'd turned. It was his own, and only his own failure. Once again, he was the one responsible. He had once again failed his apprentice. All because of one precaution too much – had Luke known the truth, perhaps he would not have carelessly rushed to face Vader, and the duel would never have occurred. His twin would have remained blissfully ignorant.

His twin – Leia – was now the only hope for the Jedi. Her father and brother could never be redeemed, which left only Leia. Angry and hateful as she was, she was their only option. Training her would be a great risk, as, apparently, she had been the one to inherit Anakin's anger. It was a gamble if he had ever seen one – all or nothing. Extinction of the Sith Order or that of the Jedi. If it meant salvation, he was willing to take that risk.

Obi-Wan made himself visible, and Leia's liquid brown eyes widened at the apparition. She trembled as she recognized him.

"Y-You're…General Kenobi…?" Kenobi only nodded.

"Leia – you will go to the Dagobah system. There you will learn from Yoda, the Jedi Master who instructed me."

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A/N: Do you hate me yet?


	9. Part IX

**Disclaimer: **If you insist...I own nothing to do with SW, except the DVDs, the ROTS novelization and some random merchandise. Happy?

Well, I see a lot of you hate me. Maybe you'll hate me more after this. XD

**GreatOne : **Four Sith? I dunno, three's quite enough, don't you think? Don't give me ideas.

**LVB: **You are referring to the last line, right?

**Freetrader: **Devil horns Here's more.

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**Part IX**

Leia's POV

"You're _leaving_?" I'd asked, shocked at Han's heated words. I had never conceived the possibility that he could actually find it in his heart to desert me. I had thought that we would stay together forever, but it had ended the way all relationships did. It festered and died.

"Yes, leaving, _Princess_. The only reason I stayed in this stupid rebellion was _you._" He had snarled angrily.

"Then why are you leaving? I'm still here, aren't I?" He had frowned at that.

"Do I have to spell it out for you? This is _over_, Your Worship." And he'd stalked away. I didn't know why that exchange still lingered in my mind – it was over; Han had said so himself, and I wholeheartedly agreed with him. I did not need that slimy pile of filth in my life, anyway. I had been lying to myself all along. Yet he haunted me – he tormented me hour after hour, day and night.

I sighed as I got up from my cot aboard the small shuttle I had taken to Dagobah shortly after resigning my commission in the Alliance. It had been hard to let go, but I had priorities now, namely my Jedi training. I almost laughed – I thought of it so casually now, as if it had been like this all my life, though at first – just under two weeks ago – it had come a major shock to me – think about it – _me_, princess Leia Organa, a Jedi Knight. Like that would ever happen.

I had been shocked, but overjoyed at the opportunity. After learning what had happened to my former friend Skywalker – no more first name basis – I had known that I no longer needed the Alliance to get my revenge. The two remaining jedi wanted me to destroy him – they _wanted _me to, and I would murder him with pleasure. Of course, they did not know that. Perhaps they thought I was simply devoted to their cause.

I was shaken from my musings by a dark and powerful presence. That had to be _him. _Him, as in Skywalker. I had known that I would confront him at one time or another, though this was most unexpected. Still, his intentions were crystal clear. I unfastened my lightsaber from its resting place at my belt and exited the ship. It was show time.

Sweating profusely, Leia wiped her brow with her sleeve. The humidity of the slimy mudhole made Yavin IV pale in comparison. For the umpteenth time, she scanned her environment with the Force. Skywalker had to be around here somewhere…She could feel him clearly and precisely, so had to be nearby. And she discovered that he was as she turned around.

Out of the shadows emerged an infinitely darker shadow, cloak billowing behind him, blowing in the nonexistent wind. She could barely recognize the wide-eyed farmboy that had burst into her cell aboard the Death Star. He was clad entirely in black, the antithesis of his former self, his once bright blue eyes were cracked, frozen cobalt, and his once handsome face was hard and twisted into a scowl. And he was empty, a void in the Force. Had she truly known this man? Either way, that had been ages ago, a time long past. This was the present.

"Skywalker." She spat, the name now a curse.

"Organa. What a pleasant surprise, " He sneered, suggesting that the encounter was anything but pleasant. Well, it sure would be pleasant for her to do away with him, Leia thought, envisioning her blade burying itself in his flesh, picturing the stricken expression on his face, almost hearing his agonized death cry. It was time to make that fantasy a reality.

"Well then, let's get started, shall we? Let's see if you can offer a better challenge than the old _fool_ did," He scoffed, igniting his lightsaber, a pure blue that did not quite fit him. Belatedly, she realized that he was referring to Yoda. Yet another death to avenge. She resumed focus on Skywalker's blade. _Blue? _It looked so much like his old one, but Leia knew that it was probably still drifting among the gasses of Bespin. _Bespin. Carbonite. Vader._

Igniting her own amethyst blade, she literally threw herself at him. Strike. _Die. _Parry. Slash_. Die, Vader, Die! _As they exchanged more blows, images flashed before her eyes. _Lying broken in her cell aboard the Death Star…_more vicious slashes. _Alderaan shattering into a million fiery sparks…_more heavy blows. _His last words before being carbon-frozen…_the fury, now a living thing, raging inside her, forcing its way out. _Skywalker's wide eyes as the blade pierces him…_And this time it was real.

Deactivating her blade, she looked down at the still corpse at her feet. Clipping her saber to her belt, she spat on the body. Finally, he had gotten what he deserved. _Or did he, really? _Yes, of course the little Sithspawn had gotten what he deserved…_Is this what you want? Are you happy now?_

…_Luke died, and you can't even try to forgive him for something he's never done in the first place?_

…_Shut up, Han …_

…_Luke died…_

…_SHUT UP!_

…_and you can't even try to forgive him for something he's never done in the first place_…

And only then did it hit her, how completely and utterly blind, foolish, prejudiced and just plain _stupid_ she had been. Only then did she realize what a terrible thing she had done. She bit her lip in an attempt to restrain the tears that strived to spill onto her cheeks as she looked down at the pale, lifeless form that lay on the ground. So beautiful, so fragile, fragile like the friend she had betrayed then mercilessly slaughtered, haunted like his eyes had been an eternity ago in the dark cell aboard the rebel cruiser…She doubled over as broken sobs racked her entire body, the tears now flowing freely in tiny rivers, merging with the swampy waters as they hit the ground.

"What have I done?" She whispered the question, though the answer was so painfully obvious. _You betrayed and murdered him. And you relished it. You spat on his corpse. Is this how you treat your loved ones?_

_I will do everything in my power to ensure that you _do_ die_…

…_I wish he was dead…_

"Oh gods…I'm sorry…I'm so sorry. I know you're dead, but I'm sorry. Forgive me, Luke…I know you're dead, but please forgive me…please." Her desperate plea went unanswered, and she was greeted by absolute silence. Even the birds grew quiet. It was silence, even in the Force. Brutal, merciless silence. So she ran, far away, as fast as she could. But she could never get away, because wherever she went, everything went with her.

Exhausted like never before, Leia crumpled and fell onto her bunk. She had shed all the tears she had left in her. The pain had been dulled, and she could feel nothing, hollow and alone, trapped in a coffin of ice. In her glacial coffin she drifted off into a deep, all-encompassing slumber.

_The world is a swirl of half-blurred images and fleeting emotions. It is a trance-like state, but she does not know it, for her mind is incapable of forming words. Words do not exist here. There is a sense of belonging about this place. Sweet and warm, like honey. She raises her gaze to meet loving brown eyes and long, smooth, silky dark hair. There is something about her, warm, comforting and…motherly? Mother? Yes, it is her. She can feel it…she is innately linked to her. Even more so with a presence beside her…It is her, but at the same time, it isn't. It is almost an extension of herself. It is her other half, in the Force fused to her. She does not know what it is, but cannot help but love it, because it is a part of her, as it will stay forever…She turns to meet intense, piercing blue eyes…Why is it suddenly gone? The bond is broken, and it feels so empty…so horribly empty…_

Leia woke with a start – what a strange dream that had been. So strange that it had been beyond descriptions – simply wordless, her mind so numb that she could not think coherent thoughts…all she remembered was the woman who had constantly haunted her dreams for as long as she could remember – the woman Leia assumed was her mother. But this time it had been different – there had been someone else, someone so deeply linked to her that they left a gaping hole in her soul as they abruptly disappeared. She had felt their bond tear, tear like fragile, delicate fabric in her grasp, for all that she touched, she destroyed.

And blue eyes. There had been blue eyes in her dream, eyes of such a remarkable shade of azure…In her entire life, she had only seen them in one person…No, it couldn't have been him. That person, whoever (s)he was, had been so close to her, like a lover, or a…a twin. Yes, that was more like it. Leia was adamant that she had no twin – unless he – it had seemed male to her – had died at around the same time as her mother.

_This is insane…I'm making up wild theories about some nonexistent twin of mine. Luke's death must be going to my head. Oh Sith, I killed him…why did I have to kill him? Why did he have to die? Why did you have to die? _Die…Blue eyes…._No_, she denied, it could not have been him. But it was. Stars, it had _felt _like him.

"Oh no…no…no, this can't be real…"

But it was. It was heartbreakingly real. She had killed her brother without the slightest bit of hesitation, and there was no denying it, try as she might. Yet still she sought to find another explanation. It just wasn't possible. No, not her twin. Maybe she really was mentally deranged, coming up with such crazy ideas.

"Obi-Wan — Luke wasn't my brother, was he?"

"I'm afraid so," Said the old General's disembodied voice. He had _known_. Obi-Wan had known. And he hadn't said a thing.

"Why…d-didn't you t-tell me? If you had, m-maybe things would have gone…d-differently. Maybe…" She trailed off, unable to continue.

"It had to be done, Leia. Once you turn to the Dark Side, you can never go back." Leia paid no heed to his words.

"You knew, Obi-Wan. You knew all along. And you didn't even _think_ of telling me. You knew I wanted him to die…and you encouraged it. How could you do this? You let me murder him in cold blood!" And she had trusted him. _Never again. _

"As I said, Leia. Some things just have to be done, terrible as they may seem. Sometimes there are sacrifices made." _Never again. _Never again would she let this happen. If only she could start over… If only she could get a second chance… If only she could make things right again… _If only…_


	10. Part X

Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with SW. Simple enough? Do I need to say it slower?

I am currently half-asleep and don't feel like making up an excuse for my long absence or writing a pre-chapter speech... Thanks to all who reviewed.

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**Part X **

Vader's POV

I never wanted this. You may not realize it, but for things to end this way was not my intention. It is a curious sensation, being completely and utterly powerless after all these years of controlling the galaxy – the entire galaxy with the exception of one being, namely my master – with a durasteel grip. I find myself helpless once more. The feeling speaks of broken promises, for power over helplessness was the one reason why I crossed the threshold – had I not been so desperate to save her – I dare not speak her name, for it would be sacrilege beyond words. It would be spitting on her grave.

I was a fool to think this would bring me absolute control – perhaps I only believed what wanted, blinded by intense desire. It is almost amusing, cruelly so, but amusing nonetheless that none of it was true. All he spoke of - power over life and death and the like – the seductive promise remains unfulfilled. It was all a lie, a ploy to make me bend to his will. I know this now, but it is far too late – I've known it from the moment I woke in the aftermath of The Duel. My chains – instead of being broken, they are merely reinforced. The Dark Side has me trapped in its icy hold – for eternity. I am forever enslaved.

So I watch you, paralyzed, unable to take action of any kind. Secretly, in the darkest corners of my frozen black mind, out of reach to the emperor's piercing, burning gaze, I feel pride at your actions. I want you to fight him. I value your resistance. I want you to give him hell. But I know your efforts are in vain. The outcome is clear, the future written. He will break you and he will have you. He will _own _you.

Your haunted, shadowed blue eyes bore right through me. They consume my very soul. They accuse me. They eat away at my very core. And they call out to me – they cry out for me. As you belatedly recognize me, no doubt in fear. Or are you well beyond fear? I cannot tell, because your presence is clouded, faint even. I know what you are doing. You retreat into yourself, finding solace in the depths of your own mind. You extricate yourself from inside. I know this as you finally meet my gaze, almost understanding.

Softly, and so faintly you mouth the word. _Father. _It is too silent for a whisper, silent as my eternal tomb of darkness, but you scream in my mind. You reach out, and Force, I want to save you. I want to save you, more than anything, but I find myself encased in my icy grave. How can you save someone when you need to be saved yourself? How can you save someone when you yourself are lost beyond salvation?

I know what you want. You long for death. You yearn for the end. And as much as I loathe myself for it, I wish for it to be so as well. I fervently hope you will die soon, for your sake. I do not feel pain. I have long since learned to shut it out – eventually, we all do. But this is as close as I have ever come in twenty-one years.

Mara's POV

I gaped, wide-eyed, at Emperor Palpatine, my master. Never had I felt this tempted to disobey my orders. Never had the mere thought flashed across my mind, in fact. Never had I dared to question his judgment. His words had vanished into thin air the moment they left his mouth, but they still echoed in my mind. _You will capture Princess Leia Organa and bring her to me, alive and unharmed._ He said nothing about what would happen afterward, but I could read between the lines.

I knew what this meant – a simple yet effective tactic. And I didn't like it one bit – I hated it. And I would have done _anything _to stop it were I not the one in charge of the task. Hell, I would have deliberately sabotaged the mission had I not been the one carrying out. Maybe I could…Maybe I—

"Master..." I trailed off, mentally kicking myself. _Smart, Jade, smart. Now you've done it. _The damage was done. Palpatine threw me a venomous glare, fingertips sparking. _Not a good sign…_

"Is there a problem?" He spat. _Translation: Do you want me to blast you with Force lightning? I will be more than happy to do so. Time to slip into mindless, blindly loyal slave mode._

Bowing, "No, Master." _No, Master. I value my life, thank you very much._

"You are dismissed." I practically flew out of the throne room.

It was funny how my loyalties had done a one-eighty in so short a time. One minute I was the perfect servant, the next I was almost – _almost_ – defying him. I could never defy him. _Twice. _There it was again. That annoying, deadly yet alluring spark of resistance.

I knew what had kindled it. I did not know whether I should love or hate it. The facts, they were all there. I had finally given in to weakness and started to care, the very thing I had trained myself not to do. You can't afford to care when you kill regularly. The stranger thing was that I did not regret it. I almost – _almost _– felt pride at my "accomplishment". As much as I tried not to admit it, it felt exhilarating to have someone in my life whose fate I cared about as much if not more than my own, more than Pal—_No._

I could not let Skywalker – _Damn Jedi, get out of my mind _– distract me from my duties. This was what I _lived _for, and I wasn't about to sacrifice it all for him. But Sith, the thought stuck in my mind. If he was as much of an idealistic fool as I thought he was, Skywalker was doomed. _NO. _There was only the mission. _To hell with Skywalker,_ _he means nothing to you anyway…_That was a lie, and my mind knew it as well as I did. I did have a soft spot for him, whether I liked it or not. I had to quash the feelings, crush them, disintegrate them, make them _disappear_. I failed miserably. I had to see him just once more. _One last time. _Or maybe I could kill—_NO._

Time stretches out like an endless, flat desert, a field of waste. A desolate land, like his mind. The stinging – no, agonizing – feverish, hopelessly silent brightness of the cell buzzes and rings in his ears. Sterile white pain, like his mind. If he listens long enough, it almost feels like someone is there with him, whispering in his mind. Whispers like rain, calm and chaotic. He still repeats the words, now empty and meaningless. Empty like the cell, empty like his mind, empty like life. Life, the long wait for death. Life, the infinite weariness before death, the longing…_I will die soon. I will die soon. Will I? Will I? Tell me! WILL I DIE SOON?_

His mind screams the question. His own hollowness responds. He has gotten used to it now. Sometimes, when it is unbearable, he retreats into the dark corner inside, his safe haven, his refuge, where nothing can disturb him. No pain, no blood, no war, no hate, no loneliness – his mind is there for him; it is the only being that can love the dark, filthy little thing he is – no thoughts. Just darkness. Blissful, warm, forgiving darkness. It loves him unconditionally, for it is him. There he can hide all alone in the shadows…_No, not alone, never alone…_

It is death in all but name, in all but permanence. A deep, dark, heavy cloak of slumber he throws on, self-imposed nothingness that falls upon him. Sometimes he dies these little deaths, but it is his secret; no one must know. No one. _No one?_ Isn't he one? Is he? _Shush…No one must know. Nothing. No thoughts. Empty darkness. Except you. Me? Or you?_

Sometimes he can't die. Sometimes the biting light and turbulent silence drag him down to his doomed existence. It pounds and pulsates, and he is all alone to face it…

…_So very alone…Father…Father!_

Sometimes he forgets no one is there and reaches out again…_He won't hear you…_He tries to tell himself what he does not know. He repeats it again and again. _Each session is one step closer. One step closer. You can't win, Your Dark Highness…The more you tighten your grasp, the further I slip…One step closer…One step…closer…death…_Nothing.

Then door hisses like a giant metal serpent, striking at him…Is it His Darkness? No. He can't hear the soft brush of the robes against the once pristine floor. Now soiled with blood. His evil blood. Instead, light steps, padded, like that of a cat…_Jade. _She slips in every once in a while, quiet as a ghost. Maybe she is a ghost…a ghost of beauty, graceful as a feather. _Will I find you in death? _Sometimes he even looks forward to her visits. It is as if he is connected to her, as if he knows her, has known her from the moment they exchanged glances….Wait, he's seen her before that…_One more such comment and I'll make you wish you were dead…Ironic that I do, even if you didn't…_

She's not a ghost. You can't feel a ghost's touch. Soft yet fiery, like a phoenix's feather. She strokes his bloody cheek and whispers a goodbye. She can't stay long. So she kisses him, softly, yet passionately. He doesn't know her – _Do I? _– but he can't help but return it. He can't help but love, because it feels just so much more fulfilling than the anger…This isn't real, and he knows it. _An illusion? _No, she's real. He can feel her. But it isn't real.

…_Pretend you love me, Jade. Make believe. Lie to me. I will believe everything…I want you. I need you. I love you…Pretend this is no illusion, no delusion. Pretend I'm yours. Pretend you're mine. Pretend this is real. Pretend this is forever...Pretend we are not dying. Pretend this is life, and not lifelong death…I love you…Don't leave me…I need you…_

…_DON'T LEAVE ME!..._

Mara's POV

Once again I find myself succumbing to my inner frailty. Skywalker doesn't know it, but I read his mind like a book. I hear his thoughts as clearly as I would were they spoken aloud, and all I want to do is stay. Forever, just like he said. I don't want to do this to him. I know I will be his death in all but body. I will doom him to servitude. _Forever. _I don't want to do this. I can't. But I must.

"Goodbye, Skywalker."

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	11. Part XI

**Disclaimer: **F it. We all know I do not own SW. Otherwise I'd be lying on a giant pile of fresh money from ROTS.

Hello, everyone. Back from the dead...again. Thanks to **Amylion **and **Zypher Omega **for the feedback.

**Zypher Omega: **Past tense? No, I would have told you had it been a flashback.

That said, on with the fic.

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**Part XI**

Leia's POV

I sighed as I stared at the greenish, vile-looking substance in front of me, most likely unsuitable for human consumption. Here I was, reduced to sitting in a seedy bar on Ord Mantell, crawling with filth and all sorts of vermin, for lack of anything better to do, but no less than I deserved. It was as if my life had ended that fateful day on Dagobah, when I mercilessly slaughtered my brother. Even now, the mere thought of it made me ill. I would have broken down right then were I not drained of all emotion.

No, perhaps my life had not ended, merely spiraling out of control, slipping beyond my grasp, hitting an endless string of dead ends. Dead ends, like this one. _Dead _ends. Even now, it was hard to believe – the concept of what I had done, it was overwhelming. It wasn't the fact that I had brought about a death – I had killed many times before. It is something you grow used to: you do not like it, but you do it out of sheer necessity.

It's the fact that it wasn't so with Luke that made it so much worse, that made my hands tremble and my eyes burn, that triggered the loathing I directed at myself. I had always felt a connection with him, though I had never been able to name what it was. Not like with Han – _Han. I cast you away. I loved you, yet I threw you away_ – No, it had been different, but no less meaningful. And I'd thrown that to the winds as well. Why had I been so cold, the very Ice Princess I had once born the title of? Had I become the very thing I'd killed? A mirthless laugh wormed its way out of my mouth. The irony of it all. Leia Organa, – _Organa? Skywalker? Vader?_ – _Jedi _in training – _Not anymore. Never again will I use the Force _– living up to the legacy of a Sith Lord she _coincidentally _happened to be the offspring of.

In fact, _that_ was the greater irony – that I had destroyed him not for the crime of turning to the Dark Side – _willingly? _– but for merely existing, for who and what he was. Oh, how painfully amusing it was that all along I had been the very thing I had despised with such fervour, that I had longed to slay. With such reasoning, I should have slain myself as well. But I had not, damn that ounce of self-preservation that remained. I did not wish death upon myself, and distantly, detachedly, I was sickened by it. I should have been dead. I had no right to exist.

As if in response to the thought, the barrel of a blaster found itself pressed against my back. Previously nonexistent adrenaline skyrocketed. My heart hammered in an ominous rhythm, declaring my death sentence.

"Move it, Organa, if you value your life," Snapped a female voice, and, disgustingly, I walked as she pressed forward. Once out of the bar, we stopped, and what little thoughts there were in my blank mind were intercepted by the cold numbness of a stun bolt penetrating me.

I woke up to a blistering headache and…strapped to the copilot's seat in the cockpit of a ship? I turned my head to my left. My captor turned out to be a red-haired, green-eyed woman clad in a dark red jumpsuit and armed to the teeth. Who was she? Somehow, she did not fit my image of a bounty hunter…But what else could she be, an assassin? Had she been one – or at least a competent one – I would have been dead long ago…I briefly entertained the notion of fighting her and hijacking the ship, but thought better of it. _No Force, remember?_

"Good. You aren't going anywhere." It was as if she was reading my thoughts…A split second later I realized that she was force-sensitive. Her presence confirmed it, not so strong as to be glaringly bright, but significant. _No Force, remember?_

"Care to tell me what's going on?" I asked wryly, despite my increasing unease.

"No," She said flatly.

"How about telling me who you are for starters?" She raised an eyebrow at that.

"Mara Jade. You don't know me, but I know a great deal about _you._" That was an unexpected blow, but I did not dare show it.

"And why is that?"

"You really are nosy, aren't you? First of all, I'm in charge here. Second, I'm armed and you're not. Third, if you must know, you are my mission." So, I was dealing with a control freak. Like my dear father.

"Mission?" So my assumption had been right after all; she was a bounty hunter.

"Yes, mission, Your _Highness_—"

"Don't call me that. I am no more a princess than you are the Emperor," I gritted out, stiffening.

"As I was saying, you, Organa, are my mission. I was to capture you and bring you before Emperor Palpatine himself." So, she was one of the Palpatine's servants – filthy scum that they were. My contempt spiked and I threw Jade a dagger of a glare.

Mara's POV

"Hold your dewbacks, _princess_," I said. I had to admit, it was fun to irk her. "I'm not finished yet. As I said, I am to bring you to the Emperor. But I won't. You will come willingly." Organa looked baffled and a little offended. She must have thought I was out of my mind. Apparently she decided to humor me.

"And why is that?" Almost innocently. I frowned, wondering how she was going to take it. I certainly hoped she would go all mushy. I had no time whatsoever for that crap.

"Your friend is alive." Organa simply blinked. Either she had not heard it or she did not dare believe her ears.

"What?"

"Skywalker – he's alive." I could see the water building up in her eyes. Somehow, inadvertently, I'd hurt her. Weren't leaders supposed to be strong? She shook her head, dejected.

"He's dead." I sighed, whether in exasperation or resignation, I did not know.

"I assure you, he is _not _dead. But that may change soon." I must have stricken a chord. She trembled, her breathing rapid and shallow, and it was painfully obvious that she was trying to restrain raw emotion.

"He's _dead_, damnit! I _watched_ him die, right in front of my eyes…I-I killed him…I s-spat…I spat on his corpse! He's—" With that, she burst into tears, words melting into broken sobs. And, as much as I hated it, I felt for her. I forced the feelings down.

"Look, princess—"

"Leia. Call me Leia."

"Trust me, you didn't kill him," She started to protest, but I cut her off before she could say a word. "At least not the right Skywalker. It must have been a clone…I'm pretty sure he keeps a few copies of himself as well, although there was only one of Skywalker that I know of." The princess' – Leia's – face hardened as she went into politician mode.

"Alright, so he's alive. What makes you think I will willingly surrender?" She still wouldn't get it through her thick skull that I was on her damn side. Wasn't she supposed to be intelligent?

"Surrender? I never said anything about surrendering. I was thinking of something more along the lines of 'go in, rescue Skywalker and get out'." Her tears flowed freely now, not of anguish, but a mixture relief and concern. And, succumbing to my cursed yet blessed weakness, I found myself close to tears as well. But mine were bittersweet. As much as I wanted to deny it, Skywalker's heart belonged to her and her alone.

"You love him, don't you?" I whispered.

"Yes…" She replied, distant. I stared at the floor, hiding behind my fiery curtain of hair. She must have seen my face, because she seemed amused. Was she so heartless and sadistic as to relish crushing my hopes? _Hypocrite. _

"It's not like that. We are twins." I did not know where the feelings came from, but I found myself immensely relieved. Yes, everything would be alright. As if to burst my bubble, Leia spoke up.

"What of Vader and Palpatine?" That I did not know the answer to.

"We'll figure out something…when the time comes. Somehow I can feel that everything will work out." The line sounded so corny I could have thrown up, but, strangely enough, I meant it.

On Coruscant, Darth Sidious smiled in satisfaction. Fools. They truly believed that their pitiful little plan would succeed, that they would simply waltz in and out and live happily ever after. What they did not know, what their puny little minds could not conceive was that he had been well aware of Jade's treason and her little scheme to rescue her lover boy. What they would not learn until it would be too late was that Sidious had allowed it. He had welcomed it. And he would use it to his advantage.


	12. Part XII

**Disclaimer: **F it, i'm not even going to bother with one.

Hey all, I'm back. Thanks for the feedback.There are only a couple of chapters to go, and this is where the Sith hits the fan...

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**Part XII**

Their plan, or lack thereof, was not as successful as they had intended for it to be. In fact, it was a disaster. Somehow, stealthy as they'd been, they had been detected and surrounded within minutes of their entrance. As they were escorted to wherever they were going – detention block, probably – Leia broke the silence to lighten the mood, though it had no effect on the feeling of dread that hung in the air around them.

"You know what? Next time, I'll do the planning." Mara snorted.

"What planning?"

"Exactly what I had in mind."

"I hate to disappoint you, princess, but I don't think there will _be _a next time."

It seemed that Mara was right, because shortly after they arrived at the entrance of what Leia assumed was the Emperor's throne room. She would have given anything to instead be brought to a detention cell. The last thing she wanted was to face a Sith Lord – that would be certain death or something infinitely worse.

"Look on the bright side. At least Vader's not in there…" Bright side indeed. She would have gladly taken Vader over Palpatine. The two of them fell silent as they were brought into a dim, spacious stone hall before the despot himself, imposing if withered and frail-looking.

"Welcome, Princess Organa, Miss Jade," He rasped. Then, turning to his traitorous servant, "I see the mission was successful, although you seem to have gotten sidetracked…" Mara Jade said nothing.

"Nevertheless, the two of you will be very helpful in the turning of Young Skywalker." Mara snorted in contempt. Leia's eyes blazed with fury.

"I will sooner die than help you." The dark ruler simply smiled, almost patronizing.

"I know you will, Young One, I know."

Leia's POV

Involuntarily, I shiver at his words. There is something chilling about them, something ominous, as if doom had just been prophesized. Dark, frigid dread fills me, and I seem to crystallize into a lifeless ice sculpture, so fragile, so easily shattered…There is something very wrong about this, more than it should be. I cannot help but foresee downfall. Not just my own, but everything. It is like a vision of the past, as if I already know the outcome, and there is nothing I can do to change it. The numbing feeling of helplessness freezes me in places.

My foreboding thoughts are broken as my suspicions are confirmed. I watch, frozen, as my brother is thrown at the despot's feet. I swallow hard and vainly try to restrain the sob as I lower my eyes upon the battered, bloody figure before me. He struggles to his feet and I almost fail to recognize him. His ripped, tattered black robe offsets his deathly pallor. He looks wasted, his face sharp and bony, but it is the eyes that frighten me.

He is dying inside. I can see it in his eyes – so hollow, so broken, so lifeless. He doesn't see me. Perhaps he does, merely not acknowledging me. He is like an empty shell. No feeling seeps from his mind, closed tightly, as if to protect it from the darkness. He must be inside. Somewhere in the depths of my own mind, I wonder if he is still there. I try to tell myself that he is not yet destroyed – he is stronger than that. Deep down I recognize the lies, the uncertainty. I can feel him drown within his own presence. I did this to him. It's all my fault.

Enter the Dark Lord. For the first time I see it as the misnomer it is. He is clearly not the lord here. Something in his stance betrays submission…he seems almost weary. I cannot see his face, but written all over it are anguished regrets. No longer blinded by hate – there is no time for dark feelings now. If I am to die, which I know I will, I shall not give in – I realize that he is not the darkness. His deeds are dark, as is his existence – there is no denying that, but it is not him. He is nothing more than its tool, its slave, fated to serve it until his end. He hides it well, but not well enough.

My mind races. My heart pounds. I find myself tensed, my muscles stiff as wires. I dimly become aware that I am holding my breath. I haven't been paying attention to what was going on. I know the Emperor is speaking, his speech sharp and gritty, like shards of steel. I can feel Luke's defiance – so he _is _still intact. He still holds on to the rebellion so characteristic of him. I smile inwardly. We are both to die today. I know what the Dark One wants of him. To turn or die. If I know him as well as I think I do, he will never give in. He will decease with honor. As will I.

He watches his son fight not only for his life, but for his soul. He doesn't have a name anymore, for he no longer knows his identity. He is not Darth Vader. This he knows. Darth Vader was a machine dedicated to the sole purpose of taking lives. He is not Anakin Skywalker. He can never reclaim the name, for he cannot erase the past. Twenty-one years of servitude to darkness cannot simply disappear within the blink of an eye. He will forever remain unforgiven, this he knows. He knows salvation can never be his. He knows he cannot start over with a clean slate. All he can do is try to repair what he has broken. Darth Sidious will die today – another kill to add to the parsecs-long list. But it will end his reign of terror.

His son grits out another barb. Sidious' eyes go from chips of ice to pools of molten lava. I flinch inwardly, but allow no weakness to show on the inside. My master's patience dwindles. His fury is a raging firestorm. It takes a lot to anger him. Those who do never survive to tell the story. He turns to his apprentice-to-be.

"If you will not turn…_she_, " Nodding at the princess, "Will be destroyed." He kills her slowly, excruciatingly. Leia Organa shrieks in agony as the Dark Side lightning pierces her to the bone. Jade watches, transfixed, as she witnesses her newfound ally's demise. And Luke…no visible reaction, though he knows that he will be the one most affected. If he will turn, this will be what triggers his fall. He fervently hopes that his son is strong enough to resist the temptation. He does not want him to walk his path – does not want his mistakes to be repeated, for they will lead to his predicament.

And then it is over. She crumples and falls to the ground beneath her. Cold and lifeless, now. Jade still stares in horror. He feels a strange emptiness within. No pain – he is far beyond such emotions. It is empty, and it is cold. It is as if something was ripped from inside the very depths of his inner core. She was a part of him. Somehow, inexplicably, she _was _him.

His son, on his hands and knees, eyes on the ground, is trembling. Be it grief or anger, he does not know. And then, slowly, with impossible fluidity, he rises to fall. For a moment, cerulean eyes are veiled by a flash of burning amber. As he strides forward, he impales the despot with a look of pure, undiluted loathing. _NO. Don't do it…Don't do it!_

His father's plea goes unheard as he further advances on the Sith Lord, summoning his lightsaber. And then, like a deadly viper, he strikes, intent on destroying his opponent. His blade is an extension of his body, the viper's fang. Sidious, caught off guard in his blind arrogance, is skewered repeatedly. The blade literally dissects him. And still, it will not stop, until nothing is left. Nothing, save tiny little particles of darkness, dispersing like ashes in the wind.

The blade is extinguished, and the green fire dies. Absolute silence falls over the throne room. Everything grows quiet, even the Force itself. As if mourning its fallen hero. He speaks, softly, gently, even…sadly, perhaps.

"It is done…Father." And still, it is deathly quiet. He starts to approach his father, but something drives him to a halt. Looking down, he shuts his eyes. A single tear trickles past a tightly shut eyelid. And, like a fragile crystal orb, it falls to the floor, shattering into a thousand shards.

Raising his gaze as he opens his eyes once more, "And now…" He stops, as if uncertain. But no. He is dead sure. A sob escapes him. And then he whispers, ever so softly...

"And now…Now you die."

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A/N: Yes, shorter and eviler than the average...Sue me.


	13. Part XIII

Well, this is it...

**Amylion: **Yes, evil me. Here's more.

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**Part XIII**

It was over now. It had ended a mere three days ago. Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith, fallen Jedi, his _father, _was gone forevermore. With a single stroke of a blade, Darth Vader had been murdered by his own dark child. No resistance had been offered. He had simply stood, waiting to be cut down by the green fire. The shadow that wielded the weapon had shown no mercy.

Said darkness hid in a pitch-black corner – the dark corner he resided in, where he found his only peace, where no one would bother him, where no one could see him break. He rested his forehead against his knees. The position was excruciating – try as she might, Jade – Mara now – had not been successful in convincing him to accept treatment. It was no less than he deserved, of course, for the wretched, sithspawned little creature had done an act so vile that constant agony for the rest of his life could not redeem. Nothing could. In an almost perverse way, the sensation was orgasmic. As it was with potent spice, the more he felt the blinding rush of pain, the more he craved it, the more he longed for. Though it did not bring justice to the worthless little vrelt he was, it brought him satisfaction.

He dug his fingernails into a deep gash on the inside of his arm, raking them across the exposed flesh. A red mist fell across his vision, and he shivered at the disturbing pleasure. The blood, the fluid, deep red blood, it was so beautiful. So _pure_. So _untainted_. So unlike the dirty, filthy little sithspawn it flowed within. _Beauty of that kind should not be trapped in such a loathsome shell of filth._ So he set it free.

As the lovely crimson spilled and hit the ground, he could almost feel a sense of euphoria. It was so blissful, so _right_. In his ecstasy he could hear someone laughing. Belatedly he realized it was him. And it felt so intoxicating. As he further sunk his nails into his own flesh, he laughed harder. The feeling, it was like delirium. Delicious, ecstatic delirium. The state of letting go of everything, where nothing mattered anymore. The laughter turned to sobs. Nothing mattered, for it was so dark and empty, dark and empty like him. And dead. Everything was dead. Everyone was dead. He was dead, leaving only the dark little thing inside the otherwise empty shell.

The evil little sithspawn was shaken from his musings by the hiss of an opening door. In walked the lithe, leather-clad figure of Mara Jade, red-gold curls trailing behind her like flames. To think that he had somehow captured such a graceful creature. Or perhaps she had captured the worthless, dark little sithspawn. Either way, he could see the love and concern in her gleaming emerald eyes. _I don't deserve you. _

Mara sat down at his side, draping a slender arm around his shoulder, embracing him as gently as she could. _I don't deserve you. I am not worthy of you. Why don't throw me away like we both know you should? Leave me, my love, before it is too late. _She kissed him softly, and the darkness couldn't help but return it. He gazed into the emerald depths, finding concern and…fear? _Don't be afraid for me. Don't waste yourself on me._

There was something about her; she could read you like a book without so much as a glimpse of your mind. Softly, tenderly, so unlike the assassin she made herself out to be, she spoke.

"You mustn't blame yourself." Such blind devotion. Such misplaced love. He blinked, then averted his gaze to the floor.

"Then who _do _I blame?" He choked out bitterly. Mara blinked, intelligent eyes bright with sadness.

"Look at me, Skywalker," She said, stroking his cheek. " Sometimes…Sometimes things happen, and…there is no one you can hold responsible." The Dark One turned to stare at her, almost in contempt. _You don't understand, Jade. You don't know me like I do._

"You speak of fate. Destiny, perhaps. But you know as well as I do that none of these things are real." She just shook her head, sadly.

"Just know that I love you, Farmboy," _Don't call me that. Please don't call me that. He's dead. _"No matter what you do. Stab me in the back, and I will still love you. Destroy me, and I will tell you so with my last breath." His eyes burned. How he hated to do this to her, to wound her in such a way. But it had to be done. _Please, please forgive me, love._

"No, you don't. Because you can't. Nobody can love a monster." He fought the tears as he said it.

"Don't say that. You know I do. You know I will never forsake you." _I wish you would. How I wish that you would._

"No, you don't!" Firmly, this time. How it hurt the filthy little sithspawn to see the pain in those eyes, how it hurt him to be so cold. If only he could take it away, take it all away…Jade shook her head.

"I said I loved you, no matter what. I meant it, Farmboy." _I don't want to do this._ Roughly, he pinned her against the wall.

"You don't love me. Tell me! Tell me you don't love me," He whispered dangerously, his voice harsh and frigid. _Please._

"No," she whispered, tears welling up in those gorgeous if sad eyes of hers. "I still love you." The evil little creature had no choice. _/ I'm sorry. / _He sent. And then he snapped her slender, graceful neck. _I'm so sorry. _But she remained silent, forever silent, her pale beauty contrasting against the dark floor. It was then that his failure was complete. It was then that he was truly broken. It was then that everything died. A single broken sob escaped him. And he did the only human thing to do. He wept.

It is in the early hours of the morning, just before dawn, the sky still draped in a dark veil. He lurks in the shadows, staring off into the distance, at the vast expanse of buildings. Coruscant never sleeps, but an eerie, funereal quiet hangs over the city. Perhaps it is just his imagination. Below him is an overpass. Further still is a stream of airspeeders, but the traffic is quite sparse. It feels dark. He can't see the darkness, but he _feels_ it. It is familiar – he has felt it before. Except last time it was sinister…evil. Now…he doesn't know. It just feels strange, ethereal…

He looks down again. A lone black-clad figure, pale and wan, stands looking over the edge of the overpass. There is something infinitely sad about him – perhaps it is the way he looks down at the traffic below, or the wistful smile that appears on his face, only to vanish again as quickly as it had appeared. He reminds him of someone. Is it..? No, it can't be him. _He's dead. You see him everywhere. Just like Le…_He does not think of her much these days, for _she_, while she maybe still alive out there, somewhere out there, she is just as dead to him.

Yet again he cannot tear his eyes away from the sight below him. The forlorn figure casts yet another mournful gaze over the edge. And then he knows what he is there to do. Somehow he feels for him. There's something about the last dejected look he gives the world. It triggers something familiar, now dormant…Inexplicably he wants to shout out, to tell the sad stranger that he's not alone, to save him. But he can't. His throat feels constricted, closing tighter each time he struggles to form a word. _Words can't help him._

From below, he hears the unmistakable snap-hiss of a lightsaber. And yes, he can see the emerald blade from here. Now he knows that there is no doubt it _is _him. _Don't do it. _But again, he cannot get the words out. _Words can't help him._

And then he sees the blade, thrown high into the air, then falling away, becoming but a speck of green in the myriad of lights below, falling away, out of sight, forever. And, out of the blue, he – _It's him, you know it's him – _throws a mournful gaze, up this time, as if acknowledging his presence. And then, arms splayed, like the wings of some black bird of misery, he lets go, as if to take flight. But the bird will not soar. The dark bird plummets lifelessly, for no bird can fly with broken wings.

His heart is a void now, yet another part ripped out. All is dead now. So he simply stands, staring off into the nothingness. The sun should rise now. It should, but no golden mist appears over the horizon. He turns to stare at his feet. Something wet hits the pavement, staining it dark. And then another. And another. Like tears from the sky. He can feel them on his face now. They mingle with his own.

"Goodbye, Kid." The wind seems to echo the whispered farewell, and then the words disappear, as if never spoken. The tears are falling hard now. He looks down for one last time, then sprinting off into the distance, never to look back again.

* * *


End file.
